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Today, on the way to preschool, Dylan and I pretended to be fancy Brits. Well, it really was more me. I spoke in my faux British accent about all the tea and crumpets we would eat with the Queen after preschool. It was an absolutely brilliant stroll.

Just after dropping her off, I stopped for coffee and a paunchy bald man in his later years was ordering just ahead of me. There are a lot of English folks in my hood so I wasn’t a bit surprised when a British accent popped out of his mouth. I’m assuming it was authentic. It’s unlikely that he was playing, “pretend to be a Brit” on the very same day I was playing it. As I listened to him order, I thought, “this bald, chunky, old dude seems a little SEXY.” Oh, the almighty accent.

A guy could be the biggest loser cad pain in the arse, but throw an English accent on him… and hello handsome – what are you doin’ later laddie? These Brits must have it so good in America. Sometimes in the bedroom Rick puts on one of these debonair accents as part of our role playing (you know, to spice thing up). I’ll let you wonder whether that is actually true. A girl can not divulge all.

A few hours later, I picked Dylan up at preschool and our stroll home was much less posh and downright bloody awful. There would be no tea with the Queen. Summer was along for the ride and girlfriend was pissed (not drunk but super mad). I would have preferred drunk. She’s not feeling well and did not take kindly to being strapped in. She wailed block after block. I was walking like a mad woman on 6 cups of regular, jumping curbs and skirting by leisurely tourists. I finally stopped and took Summer out of the stroller just to calm the poor lady but it was futile. The tears continued to streak down her sweet, damp cheeks.

So it was a tortuously long walk, with all those stares from strangers, sprinkled with some irritating commentary. You know how it goes. “Oh poor baby. She’s so upset.” “Don’t cry baby.” “I think your baby is cold.” Cold? She has on six layers, plus a hat, she’s stuffed into a stroller sleeping bag and it’s a not-so-terrible 43 degrees outside. Oh wait, maybe she’s hot. I take her hat off.

I feel like the queen of crappy moms because I can’t soothe her. Finally, we get home. She continues to sob. I put on “Jack’s Big Music Show” much to Dylan’s delight. I rock and nurse Summer a little. She starts to simmer down. She begins to babble a bit. It’s over.

Right-O. Thank goodness. Crumpets will be served after all.

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9 Responses to a stroll to remember. and one to forget.

  • Jordana Bales says:

    (Said in a British accent) – Mrs. Folbaum, you never cease to amaze me – I have not yet heard this British accent in lo our many years together. (Back to normal accent) – I want to hear it soon!

  • Nona says:

    I cannot stand the commentary when my daughter is hysterical.

    Lucky for me, I don't understand what they are saying half the time to me here, so I don't have the opportunity to stew on what kind of snappy comebacks I should have used!!

    I hope the tea and crumpets were divine! 🙂

  • Alex says:

    I'm putty in the hands of any man with a Scottish accent. I would ditch my husband and daughter in a second if Gerard Butler came knocking on the door. Anyone seen the movie The 300? If not, I highly recommend renting it on a night when your husband is working late and indulging in the Scottish Fantasy that is Gerard. Holy kilts!! This man is dead sexy.

  • Pam F. says:

    I myself am a Pierce Brosnan kind of girl. But I think knowing that Rick puts on accents in the bedroom is a little too much information!

  • Kristen says:

    dare I say… Mr. Darcy, Mr. Knightley, and Mr. Ferris. Oh, Jane Austen's men. She has written them in such a delightful way. They truly love their women in inspiring ways. They bring out the best in their women just like I hope and believe my husband does for me.

  • Allison Teweles says:

    Perhpas this is why, when asked who is on my "Top 5" list (you know what I'm talking about), I listed Colin Firth and John Hannah. And David Beckham, but duh. That's a whole lot less about his accent.

kelcey kintner