Have You Heard?

Did you hear about the mother who recently took her small children shopping?  What was she thinking? other mothers will say.  Children and shopping don't mix.  But this mother just needed a couple of things.  And she'd given those children of hers a great pep talk on the drive over to the shopping center.  She'd encouraged them to be good, assured them they'd only be gone a few minutes and promised surprises if they would just behave.  Did I mention this mother had three small children?  Ages 5, 3 and 1.  Oh, and that they are all boys.  Boys that only enjoy shopping at western stores and Tractor Supply.  But this sweet, tired mother trusted that her three angels would behave if for no other reason than they love their Mama and they want to see her happy.  The mother and her boys entered the first store and the good behavior lasted exactly three minutes and thirty-eight seconds.  The mother regrouped, gave another pep talk and even cleaned out her change purse for multiple spins on a Winnie the Pooh ride sitting outside the outlet mall.  Surely children who spent $5.50 of their mother's money on $.50 Pooh rides will be precious angels and allow their Mama to step into one more store.  Surely.  The mother walked into The Gap with confidence, certain she was going to have a pleasant experience.   She walked with purpose, knowing her time was limited and that she needed to get what she needed and get out.  She spotted a table of cardigans that were on sale and told her boys to stand still for one second, hoping she could scoop up a few sale items before her offspring became restless.  Seconds later, her two oldest children were doing laps around a table overflowing with tank tops.  The poor mother flashed those children a harsh look, grabbed them by the shoulder and placed them beside each other, with their backs against a tall cabinet displaying jeans.  The mother chose the spot because they would be cornered.  The cabinet behind them, a display table to the right of them, a tall pedestal with a female mannequin on it to their left and their frustrated Mama in front of them. "Don't move!" she said, hoping she'd frightened them, hoping she could just have a moment of peace to pick out a flippin' sweater set.  She turned and began rummaging through the contents of the table.  She heard quiet snickers from her boys, but kept digging through the sweaters, her eye on the prize, her focus on the job at hand.  More laughter.  The mother turned to see her oldest children standing just as she'd placed them, grinning from ear to ear.  Even the baby was sitting still in his stroller, giggling at his older brother's antics.  She turned around, smiling to herself, thankful that her children were doing as they were told.  More laughter.  How sweet, she thought, her oldest must be telling a knock-knock joke that the three of them find hilarious.  She sighed and began to sort through the clothes again.  This time, she looked through the sweater display slowly, taking her time, enjoying herself thanks to her sweet, wonderful children.  She heard someone say, "Whoa! Whoa!" and turned to her left to see the store manager standing behind the counter, waiting on a customer.  Hmm, the mother thought.  Did she say that?  I wonder who she was talking to.  The mother turned around, happy to see her children, still standing at attention, still giggling and grinning.  She continued to sift through the sweaters.  And then she heard the manager yell, "No! No!  No, buddy!  Stop! Stop!  You're going to knock it over!  Stop!  Stop!"  The mother again turned her attention to the manager and saw that she was looking in her direction, clearly irritated and obviously speaking to someone nearby.  The mother turned around to see who on earth the store manager was scolding.  And she was horrified. That poor mother.  She turned to find one of her children, with his arms outstretched, struggling to balance on his tip toes while he pulled the mannequin's pants down and groped it's plastic backside.  He strained and stretched, teetering back and forth on his tiptoes, and laughing uncontrollably. And as he wobbled back and forth, the mannequin wobbled too.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  The child seemed unconcerned as the plastic chick nearly crashed to the ground.  The poor mother rushed over, grabbed the mannequin and safely balanced it on the pedestal.  She threw down the cardigan sweater she was admiring, flashed the manager a horrified smile, offered her a quick apology and drug her children out of the store so fast and forceful their feet never touched the ground.  That poor, poor mother.  They're keeping her identity a secret to avoid any additional embarrassment, but the child's identity has been released...