Confessions of a Scary Mom

The back story:
Before the Yeti hatched, Red and I had a conversation regarding the Yeti being in school someday.  The gist of the conversation was that I was a pain in the ass in school (but did very well) and Red was a pain in the ass in school (and was expelled from multiple institutions).  Therefore, the Yeti is genetically bound to follow in our footsteps.  I quickly stated that if I had to, I would march my ass in any school, go toe to toe with any administrator, and defend my son (if he is right).  If he is in the wrong, then by all means, use any form of torture to get your point across.  Red quickly asked if I was going to be one of those scary moms.  Yes.  With out question.

The follow up:
My biggest baby related pet peeve is when complete strangers approach us and want to touch my baby.  MY baby.  Nasty, flu infested, rejected for employment as a carnie, type of people.

We recently went out at one of our local pizza establishments.  We went early so the place would be empty in case the Yeti had a melt down, it wouldn't disturb a restaurant full of people.  Fortunately, when we arrived, there were only two other women in the restaurant.  As usual, when my food arrived, the Yeti started snarling and he too wanted to eat.  He was in his car seat between me and the wall.  I whipped out a bottle and began to feed him and eat my turkey grinder.

Sidebar:
I LOVE turkey sandwiches.  When I was pregnant, I didn't miss beer.  I missed my turkey and swiss with mayo and lettuce on whole wheat.  This was my first turkey sandwich since hatching.  It was amazing.  Maybe better than sex.

Continuing on...
While I was feeding the Yeti, the two women that were there proceeded to come over to our table to see the oh so adorable baby.  This was on quite 50 something woman and her quite elderly (and as was soon to be apparent) mother with dementia (I hope).  So, while we were eating, they stood at our table for several minutes, just staring at the baby.  Awkward silence.  Dirty looks getting shot both across the table and to our new company.  Then out of no where, said elderly woman, PICKED UP THE REMAINING HALF OF MY GRINDER and stated "Ooooo hungry baby might want this later."  SHE PICKED UP MY SANDWICH.  I was a deer in the headlights.  Frozen.  Speechless.  Shocked.  What do I do?  She was old, I couldn't punch her in good conscience.  That seemed to be the end of their visit and they went back to their table.

I informed Red that from now on the Scary Mom was unleashed.

2 weeks later:
My grandparents invited my parents and us to dinner at a nice restaurant for a pre-Christmas feast (like we need it).  As we were being seated, I set the Yeti down in his car seat on the floor while I was getting situated.  When I turned around, a woman at the table behind us, had turned the car seat so it was facing her and proceeded to begin removing the Yeti.

Insert slow motion.  I felt the veins in my head pulsating.  My skin turned lime green.  I felt my muscles begin to grow and my shirt seams ripping apart.  My fangs elongated and foam started dripping from my strained lips.  DON'T TOUCH MY BABY!  Echoed across the restaurant.  Silence.  Stillness.  I bent down, grabbed the Yeti, and continued to have a very nice meal of my favorite duck.

PS  I never ate the remaining half of my turkey grinder.