Trouble times three

Last week, I had a thought.

And in atypical fashion, I kept it to myself.

Until it unexpectedly came out of my mouth Tuesday morning in the hallway of a preschool as I mingled amongst a bunch of hipster and granola moms. A woman there handed business cards to S2 and me for a new salon that opened down the street from me.

Oh, I know this place, I said. It's cute. (But that wasn't the thought I'd kept to myself -- although it technically was a thought I had when I noticed the place last week.)

The woman who handed us the biz cards said, "Oh, well you should patronize the place. The woman who owns it just had triplets."

Which is when the thought I'd kept to myself suddenly made an unexpected appearance:

I don't like people who have triplets, I said.

S2 turned and gave me a look I get from her sometimes. The one that's a mix of surprise, bemusement and horrified curiosity about what I'm going to say next. She laughed and asked, "What's wrong with people who have triplets?"

They hog the sidewalks with their three-across, side-by-side strollers, I replied. They take up so much room, and they don't pull over, so they make you step off the sidewalk into the parking strip so they can pass.

The woman who handed me the business card looked appalled. Not about the triplets, but about my opinon. Some people are sooooo judgmental -- if you say ONE BAD WORD about mothers, especially of triplets, you might as well be the antichrist.

S2 knew better than to take me too seriously, but she also knows me well enough to know that I am serious about such things. People who take up the entire sidewalk with their massive strollers do not please me. Nor do I like those people who walk the streets with GOLF umbrellas, epecially when they don't raise or tilt the umbrella to make sure it clears your head, forcing you to duck. Nor do I like those people who walk beneath awnings with their umbrellas open, refusing to make way for people in rain coats. (Look, this is PORTLAND. Umbrellas are for wimps. Get the fuck out of the way with those things!)

But the amusing thing is how S2 will engage with me in the silliest of discussions -- if for no other reason than to make me aware of some perspective I must have overlooked. Thus:

"Well, I suppose when you have triplets, you might really want to take control of the sidewalk," she said. "It might be the only thing you feel like you can actually control."

I don't care. I don't like 'em. I replied. They should have strollers that are three *deep* rather than three across.

"Some of them do have those," S2 said.

Not in my neighborhood, apparently. Because I have to step off the sidewalk all the time for those three-by-side deals.

The woman who handed me the card seemed aghast. So I did not continue with the direction my commentary *could* have gone about fertility treatments, multiple births and what have you.

"Well, you sure are *bitter* today," S2 said. "You're being very out of character." (That's the nice thing about good friends: They want to believe in your better nature even when you're just being totally random in your bitchiness.)

Now, perhaps you are wondering: Just how the hell can I have such an issue with triplets -- and isn't it a bit of an exaggeration that I have to step off the curb for them "all the time"?

The truth is, I run across a few sets of multiple-birth people when I'm out walking the dog in my neighborhood, at least two of which are triplet people. Those triplet people *always* force me to step aside. Never even put one wheel of their massive, ATV-like strollers on the grass, NEVER wait for a moment someone's driveway where we can all pass without getting our feet muddy. (It was raining when I came across them most recently, and this is when I thought them especially rude.)

I feel like slapping them with a "Share the Road" bumpersticker next time we come across each other.

I mean, just because you went off and popped out *three* infants at the same time doesn't mean the world rotates around you. Me and my dog deserve to pass on the sidewalk. Let's learn to SHARE, shall we?

Or maybe I'll just go get myself two more little Cairn terriers, walk them three abreast and refuse to step aside. Considering how much little terriers like to lick and nip at the faces of small children....

I'm just sayin'.