Bait and Switch

My mom is known for her bizarre collection of friends and often my children and I are used as props for her to present her life to these people as the devoted Grandmother and mother that she isn't.
Wait, that isn't fair. Abigail adores her and they do play together a lot, and she does babysit, so I guess we could call her devoted, but keep in mind that it is n this weird self serving kind of fucked up way.
Anyway...One of my mom's "dear friends" was celebrating her birthday today and it was "her one wish" to have the girls come to have lunch with her at work. I don't mind this woman so I was willing to go along for the ride. My mom set up the plans and we were off to the Chicago Botanic Gardens (after my mom wardrobed my girls in matching dresses, Eleanor's being too small for her and pinching her grade A chub).
When we got there, my mom's friend went rushing by us at the entrance with a wheel chair, shouting over her shoulder that she was going to get Betty. Who? When I asked my mom she acted shocked that I didn't know that Betty was coming with her daughter. She followed that with one of her maniacal laughs that she gives when she knows that she has done a bait and switch. Here I thought we were having a quick birthday lunch with a friend of my mom's, but really we were scheduled for a tour of the gardens and an obligatory meet and greet with my mom's peeps.
I can't complain too much about the day, the gardens are wonderful and I was able to see them from the back of a golf cart rather than pushing a stroller, but it was still a golf cart full of Republicans. I had to hold the baby because no one told me to bring a sling, and if my mom gasped "This is just stupendous" one more time I was going to push her off the cart. Abby had fun with a little activity that set her on the task of looking for things which distracted her form the pro-war, pro-Bush rhetoric that was being shoved down my throat. As irritating as the bait and switch was, it was more painless than most of these adventures with my mom.
On the way home we stopped at Target, which is where the day took a turn for the worst. My needs there were simple, but of course it was turned into a production involving a new Dora book and glasses for Abby and my mom throwing a boys size 7 shirt down on the floor because I told her not to buy it for size 4 or 5 Abigail.

I hate when mom stops taking her medicine.