The Omen...and I'm not talkin' bout the movie

The Creative Memories lady I had been using is not the best 'call returner' in the world, so I found another lady in my town. I needed a new set of blades for my cutting system because I lost mine in the move. (let's just ignore the fact that I am 99.9% guaranteed to find them within the week now). I ordered the mini-power sorter box as I have heard great things about them on the boards, and Nicole ordered the large box so I was picking that up for her too. So I went to pick up my stuff at my new CM lady's house. (Wow...you are thinking...this is really boring and why is Colleen blogging about doing errands? Just wait.... ) I arrive at the house after having to call her again for the address that she had just given me 15 minutes prior...that I had already forgotten. I step into the house and am immediately accosted by a large yellow lab jumping all over me and the large, pungent odor of said dog ;) Fortunately, I watch the dog whisperer and with a stern stare and a "pshhhht"...said dog goes away. (damn I love that show, but I digress) After the dog comes the 3 (maybe 4) year old and the still in his jammies (it's 11am) eating a big bag of cheetos and pratically glowing orange cheese powder. He is yelling at me to come into the livingroom with him and "come see the mess I made!!" As he yells he is grabbing my hand and about yanking my arm out of it's socket. His mother says (in a tone without even a HINT that she really means it), "Jake (name changed to protect the naughty), she doesn't want to see the mess you made, go play." He doesn't. He doesn't let go of my hand either. So I yank it away and say (in a tone-of-voice that I'm thinking he has never heard before), "I am not going with you. I am talking to Mommy right now." He lets go....and KICKS ME in the shin! His mother says nothing. MORTIFIED, I say, "PLEASE do NOT kick me! That is NOT nice" He gives me the VERY WET raspberries... repeatedly. His mother says (in same voice as her first 'redirection') "Jake, you shouldn't kick people. That's not nice. If you want to go to Grammy's house you need to be good. Now please go in the livingroom" He bounds into the livingroom and she starts to show me my stuff I write out the check and back comes Damien. He begins to once again dance around me with an endless chorus of raspberries, and when he goes behind me he PUNCHES me in the BUTT...while blowing raspberries so forcefully I can feel the air vibrations hitting my ass. At this point, I am ignoring this demon as I just want to get out of this place and never look back. Jakey-poo wasnt having that though...as after the butt-punch/raspberry combo, he dances around to the front of me in a sing songey brag which I don't pay attention to the first couple times...then I realize what he is singing... "na na na na na...I spit chips all over your butt...ha ha ha ha ha" Jaw on the floor. I turn butt to mother and say "Did he just SPIT on me, FOR REAL!?" She says, "yeah he did...I'm sorry. Jake it's not nice to spit on people. Do you want to go to grammy's house? Go back in the livingroom." (ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME...I WOULD HAVE MY KID HANGING FROM THE RAFTERS BY THIER TOENAILS BY NOW!!!) I say, "Well....can I get a paper towel please!?" She goes and gets me one as I wipe all the digusting chewed up cheetos off my ass into her trashcan, she walks Jake into the livingroom again. I am livid at this point and the dog smell is making me want to puke. I grab by bags and say "Thank you...I have to run...lots to do today" And pratically run out the door. She calls me on my cell to let me know I forgot my receipt. No way I am going back to get it, I tell her I'm all set. She offers to drop it off at my house later and I say that's fine. She better leave Chucky in the car.