Step Away From The Play Doh, Ma'am, Step Away

First let me say that this post has absolutely nothing about running, except that I should have gone to the gym when I got home after the Play-Doh incident but . . .I didn't.

I wasn't going to post this but it's just so ridiculous and surreal that I have to share it. Plus Mike said he was surprised I didn't post about it yet, considering how aghast I was last week, so here it is.

The scene . . .

Last week we went to our 4-year-old daughter (let's call her "T") "Trunk-n-Treat" event at school. The pre-schoolers dress in their costumes, we eat hot dogs, we play games and they trick-or-treat with parents handing out candy and treats from trunks of the cars. (I would have liked to post a picture of our daughter as she looked very cute in her HSM* cheerleading costume but Mike and I agreed when we entered the blogosphere not to post pictures of our kids. No offense to my blog friends, this isn't directed at you, but there are some sickos out there.)

Of course, in our typical "I only pretend to be organized" fashion, I had to run out during lunch from work to get candy for the kids. In my mad dash across Target (because I was also trying to stop home to let the dog out for a walk) I grabbed a bag of candy and bags of the mini Play-Doh containers because I figured, hey, how much candy can a 4-year- old eat? I also grabbed two inexpensive greeen Halloween-themed bowls. (Remember the bowls, these will be important.)

It rained at the event so when it was time for the kids to "trunk 'n treat" so we moved everything into the gym. I stayed with T in line outside the gym while Mike set up ourPlay-Doh and candy stash inside the gym with some of the other parents. While I'm in the "parents waiting with kids" section outside the gym Mike calls on my cell reminding me that he has to go pick up our 6-year-old, A, from a birthday party. So Mike leaves the candy and the Play-Doh in the bowls on a chair. A nice older woman tells Mike no problem, I'll keep an eye on it. Mike leaves the school.

Mike leaves to get A; T and I enter the gym in line with other parents and kids to do some trick or treating. Chairs were set up in a "U" shape with parents passing out candy. As T and I make our way down the line, I notice the green bowls I brought, the candy and the Play-Doh. A woman is standing over the chair, as other parents are complementing her on the great idea to bring Play-Doh. The woman, in all her Play-Doh-basking glory, says - - Thank you.

What - Wait. Thank you? It's not your Play-Doh lady. Wait I tell myself, don't overreact, others probably brought Play-Doh. I do a quick scan of the gym and no, no Play-Doh stations, only candy. And those are my green Target bowls! T and I get closer to the Play-Doh Imposter and I hear her tell another mom, "Oh thank you! Yes, I thought the kids might like it." She's talking about my Play-Doh! My Play-Doh! WTF? Who lies about Play-Doh?

So T and I get up there and I look at her straight in the eye and say, "T, pick out some of the Play-Doh WE brought." The woman, who doesn't know that I'm the true bearer of the Play-Doh says nothing. I say, "That looks like the Play-Doh I brought." No response. I say again, "Yes, WE brought that Play-Doh." Again no response. But she's clearly uncomfortable. "That's the Play-Doh I BROUGHT in MY green bowls." No response.

Now it's clearly time for either 1) T and I to move on or 2) Continue to hold up the line while I'm confronting the Play-Doh imposter, resulting in a scene in the school gym. The people in line behind me didn't know who really brought the Play-Doh (and likely didn't give a damn either) so I thought that while it was so odd and crazy and strange for someone to lie and claim to bring someone else's Play-Doh to a school event, I had to move on before I was forever branded the "Crazy Play-Doh Lady" at my kids' school. We have nine more years until both kids are out of this school so I couldn't risk the humiliation for my kids . . . I could just picture A getting in a fight at school defending his mom, the Crazy Play-Doh Lady.

I'm not bitter, we are only talking about Play-Doh here and I am well aware that there are more important things going on in the world.

But seriously, WTF? Who steals Play-Doh?

*If you don't know what HSM stands for, you clearly do not have pre-teens or young kids in your house.