Really, I mean, Really?

She knows where the cho-lo-co-late is hidden. It's in the office, behind a door that stays closed to keep babies and kitties from wreaking havoc. This morning, when I opened the office door, she came running down the hall and swiped a handful of Peppermint Patties and tried to run away with them. I stopped her and put the candy back, and she threw her body on the floor in a fit of baby rage. Cinnamon cereal made it better, but only marginally. Girl knows what she wants.

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At my doctor's appointment, there was a line at the check-out, where you make your next appointment and pay your bill. There are no chairs, but I leaned up against the wall dramatically while I waited, giant ankles swelling with every moment. The woman in front of me finished and I moved towards the booth, anticipating her departure. Then (for real?) this conversation transpired...

Woman (to receptionist): Before I go, could you see if you have any Transfomer stickers?
Receptionist: Are there any in the rack there?
Woman: No, I already looked, and I have a special request for a Transformer sticker.

Now mind you, there are plenty of OTHER stickers there, Lion King, Thomas the Train, generic animals and such. But no. She sends the receptionist back to look through the sticker stockpile while I sigh audibly and lean back onto the wall. Okay, I can see where E gets the drama. But really, woman. If the kid can't accept a FREE Thomas sticker, then go buy the right kind. Target is just down the road.