This past weekend, I met a man with the requisite 3 “H”: Handsome, Hardworking and HAWT!
But let me start from the beginning…
On Sunday, the boys and I went to the XYZ Pet Store in Chelsea to buy a few goodies for Shadow, my 4 1/2 month old puppy. While at the store, we noticed XYZ had several new puppies, including an 8 week old Red Merle (Brown and White) Toy Australian Shepard with hazel eyes. He looked like a cuddly, little teddy bear. He was beyond adorable! So adorable, in fact, that I decided on the spot to get him as a playmate for Shadow.
While the boys played with our newest family member, Teddy, I wandered about the store looking for a few items. “Joe”, the store manager, came over and assisted. We shared a few laughs and even joked about how hard it would be for a divorced woman with two sons and two dogs to find a date! HA the laughs on him!
As we were preparing to leave, we noticed several protesters outside the store. They were belligerent and combative with everyone who exited the store but I could never have imagined what was yet to come.
As we attempted to leave the store, the boys and I were blocked passage by several of the protesters. Chants that included “Puppy killers!”, “You’re a bad Mom”, “Your children will be High School dropouts”, “You’re Ghetto Latinos”, and “Your kids will never amount to anything” were just a few of the G-rated phrases that met us as we tried to hail a cab.
What should have been a happy moment, had turned into something ugly. I was livid! My 9 year old was terrified. My teen was furious and our new puppy, Teddy, was crying in his crate.
“Joe” stepped in. He screamed at the protesters, telling them to leave us alone. The protesters didn’t care. They were going for the jugular. They were going after my boys and directed all their anger towards them.
Grasping Andrew’s small hand, I tried to shield him. I pulled him closer to my side, blocking his view of the others but I couldn’t cover his ears. I couldn’t shut out the chanting. I could feel him getting more agitated with every yell of “Murderer!”. I bent close, whispering in his ear, but he could not hear me. He was transfixed, like a deer caught in the headlights.
Karl, noticing his brother’s fright, jumped into the fray. Trying to calm the protesters, he told them they weren’t going to sway others while disparaging them. This only served to enrage them and to draw their ire. Their fixation turned ugly, uglier than what they sought to prevent. In attempting to stop what they perceived as animal abuse, they had turned to child abuse… disparaging, emotional, racial abuse.
These “adults”, and I say that loosely, believed their rights to protest against XYZ trumped the rights of others, even the rights of children. They were rabid dogs, foaming at the mouth, and going for the kill.
Thankfully, Joe ran into the street and stopped a passing police van. The officers noticing the children, quickly pulled over. The protesters dispersed, attempting to mingle in the crowd that had formed but it was too late. The officers saw them and quickly rounded up the leader of the group, a young Latina (Ironic isn’t it? ).
I sent Andrew back into the pet store as I filed a complaint. He ran inside willingly, with my teen hovering protectively over him. Watching them, I couldn’t help but notice how young and innocent they both seemed. I wanted to shield them, to protect them, but I know my ability to do so is quickly coming to an end. I have to prepare them for the world and this would become a teaching point.
So where does the date come in?
A day after the whole sordid affair, I received a call from Joe, my 25 year old handsome, hardworking, HAWT knight in shining armour.
I haven’t accepted his dinner date yet. Not sure if I should. I mean I am more than 10 years his senior!
What do you think I should do?