Mom to the Screaming Masses: Who knew buying a remote was a comedy?

So, like I said before, I needed to buy new garage door openers this weekend. We've been in our house now five years, and those openers have really seen a LOT of action. They've been dropped, stepped on, run over and slammed around. Both openers have been duct taped together. In order to use them, you have to squeeze the outside edge, lift one leg, point the remote to the 42nd parallel when the Moon is in the 7th house.

In other words, it was time.

I went to Sears one night with four of my kids. We looked at the remotes offered - black with white buttons, gray with black buttons, gray with white buttons, gray with blue buttons, and black with gray buttons. Which one was ours? We only use the remote a dozen times a day - I found it comical that none of us actually KNEW what it looked like. Of the five of us, we had five different thoughts. "I know it's the gray with blue buttons!" shouted one daughter. "No, you dummy. It's gray with black buttons!" said a son. A third voted for black with white buttons. Truly, I was confused. We looked and looked, and finally the salesman asked us to come back another day WITH the remote. Also, we needed to know the color of the reset button - red, purple, blue or green. Who knew that this would be so complicated? My son was aggravated with me - surely I should know SOMETHING as BASIC as this. I mean, God, Mom!

The next day I went into the store, armed with both the remote (gray with blue, thank you) and the knowledge that the reset button was orange. My oldest child told me to call from the store and he'd be available to get up on the ladder and answer any questions that the salesperson might have, in order that we might get the best remote.

I approached a salesperson, an adorably young guy I'll call Jack. He really was a cutie, all of maybe 22. He was glad to help, he said, and we made our way to the area with the remotes. I grabbed the one that matched mine, but saw that it was labeled as compatible with the RED reset button. Ours, I was assured by my son, was ORANGE. I decided to call and have my son relay the info to the (young, cute, unmarried) guy.

The phone rang. Once, twice, three times, and I heard someone pick it up. "Get away from me, you idiot!" shrieked one of my daughters. "You didn't get to the phone in time, so just go away!" I raised my eyebrows and moved the phone away from my ear an inch. "Hello?" she continued.

I looked at Jack and smiled. He smiled back, and I asked my daughter to get my son on the phone. "He's already on the other line!" she yelled in my ear. "Shut up, ugly!" I heard him yell at her. "Mom asked for me, not you, so just shut up!" "No, you shut up! I hate you and you smell bad!" she countered, and the war was ON.

Jack started to shake with laughter. "Hey," I said, "I need you guys to help me." I was attempting to be calm and rational and not the mother of the screaming masses - when really all I wanted to do was join in the scream fest. "I need you to get on the ladder and get some info for me, son," I said.

"Go get me the cordless phone now, you dummy. Mom needs me to help!"

"I'm not helping you!" she screamed. "You get it yourself!"

By this time the (young, cute and unmarried) salesman was holding his stomach. He was laughing so hard that tears were running from his eyes. He could hear everything that my kids were saying, and he was certainly getting an earful. I continued to try to reason with the girl, who was insistent that she didn't know where the cordless was, and there was no way she was helping him - she finally agreed to help ME, as long as I knew it was for ME and not HIM. My son was atop the ladder by this time,still screaming at her to SHUT UP and LET HIM TALK and GET AWAY and YOU SMELL and I handed the phone to the (still chuckling) salesman. He wiped his eyes and asked my son to check the color of the button. It was indeed orange, a color that Craftsman apparently never made, despite the fact that my son was looking right at our Craftsman with the orange button. Jack asked my son to read the model number, checked over a few things, and determined that we had indeed selected the correct remote, even though the color wasn't correct. Jack handed the phone back to me with the comment that my son "said he knew you'd need to call for help - you wouldn't be able to do it. That's why he stayed home - so he could help you when you called. He's really, uh, knowledgeable. " My son can come off as a bit of a know it all.

I hung up the phone without bothering to say another word to the fighting masses - the two who make Vietnam look peaceful. I followed Jack to the checkout, and he asked me if I knew how to program the remotes.

I looked at him, he looked at me, and he said, "Oh yeah, right - you have a 15 year old son. Never mind."

And people wonder why I (occasionally) drink.

_________

Check it out - almost the ENTIRE list from the weekend got done!

Comments

Who knew it would be so difficult? I haven't had to change our garage remote, so I certainly didn't know.
Glad you got it all taken care of; I assume it was properly programmed?

Posted by: Stephanie C. | February 18, 2008 at 01:06 PM

Poor Jack! But I guess scenes like that make for the best birth-control, right?

I, for one, would NEVER question your need for a drink.....

Posted by: Headless Mom | February 18, 2008 at 01:23 PM

Okay, I'm sorry, but I was giggling at the end. And I hear you, 15 year old for you, 12 year old GIRL for me who can work magic with anything electronic. *g*
Thanks for sharing this!

Posted by: Brandy | February 18, 2008 at 03:39 PM

LOL. I've experienced the same problem multiple times - not the kids yelling, thank god, since I don't have any, but getting to the store and realizing you don't know what something looks like, despite seeing it 1,000 times.

As for Jack - I'm 24 and open to the younger guy thing, did he have a wedding band?

Posted by: M | February 18, 2008 at 05:38 PM