Why You Should NEVER Cross a Soccer Mom

If I had to give an award to the most ratchet grocery store, it would certainly be Vons. There are always little shits running rampant, customers crying because their coupon expired, lines moving slower than a virgin on prom night.

Surrounded by Chex mix, Cheez-its, and Gushers, I realize I’m in the wrong aisle, but immediately am confronted with a much larger problem: a soccer mom is heading in my direction with a full head of steam.

Like all soccer moms, she looked to be in a rush. The endless daily soccer mom tasks demand excellence, precision, and production. Those oranges aren’t going to slice themselves.

And no she was not wearing those mom jeans that swallow the entire abdominal region. That is a common myth among soccer moms. And also no, there weren’t any bottles of white wine (that’s Bored Housewife).

But then I got a closer glance at her which scared me half to death:

Her hair tied freakishly tight in a ponytail pulling her forehead a few inches in reverse. Veins popping out of her arms from what I figure is the steel grip to her cart. A stone-cold expression that could rival a dragon’s rage. Black rimmed glasses with a heat-seeking ability to lock onto its victim (because four eyes are more cunning than two). Eyes dilated like a blood-lusting, seething troll about to devour its prey.

Other than that she looked pretty good.

I realize her cart, powered by the velocity of Capri Sun, isn’t showing any sign of slowing down. With all of those synthetic cleaning sprays, shit animal crackers, and pointless Glade scented wall plugins, I stand no chance. Time is suspended in this moment, but then it was like everything happened at once:

She bulldozes the shit out of me.

I’ve had my share of experience with falling: playing sports, stepping on wet rocks out in nature, tripping down flights of stairs at bars – I had zero chance surviving this fall. I was knocked flat on my ass like a pancake.

I hate Vons.

You know how people get superhuman strength when they take PCP? They suddenly gain the ability to break handcuffs – that’s how I’d describe the power of a soccer mom when they’re on a mission. They can pick up cars, they can move mountains, they can bulldoze the living shit out of you.

She doesn’t say anything. Her eyes meet mine, but it was like she saw right through me. An eerie calmness. She peered into my soul with a flash of indifference and a touch of boredom.

No remorse, no concern. She had a mission that nothing could stand in her way. Like a wrecking ball blasting anything in its path, this was one of those moments where you don’t ask any questions and just get the hell out of the way.

Obviously I didn’t say anything. She was Medusa and I was a fucking peasant. She’d turn me to stone without moving a muscle. I shut my mouth like a timid little white boy and waited anxiously for it to be over.

You wanna call me a pussy ass beta-bitch? Go right ahead. I’ve faced ex-girlfriends breaking into my home, woken up to a kitchen covered in shattered glass and blood everywhere, had a gun pointed at me, and have dealt with a cocaine-crazed Asian man trying to murder a house full of people.

Nothing has gotten me shook like this.

Let’s see how well you fare when you find yourself flattened out like a pancake, defenseless, stunned beyond explanation before your very eyes. That’s what I thought.

I was lucky. She spared me.

This time.

Principle: Never, EVER, cross a soccer mom.

Do you think you can play god? Do you think you’re immortal? Do you think you have some type of safeguard protecting you? Nonsense. Do not make the grave mistake I did. You will be shamefully humiliated, lying flat on your back struggling like a fuckin penguin to get up, too dazed to understand what just happened.

I know never to cross soccer moms, and you should too now. She wrecked me, and she will wreck you. That much is irrefutable.

This is a post about humility. Do you think you are so high and mighty that you have a fighting chance against a soccer mom? Don’t be a fool. Either be humble, or you will be humbled.

Understand: you are NOT invincible, you are human. Be aware of your weaknesses so you are not easily flanked. This is not a time to fill your head with a bunch of false truths.

You want to be covered in poisonous Lunchables, toxic Capri Sun, and scorching acid from orange slices?

Didn’t think so.

Make no mistake – you are outmatched. I beg you not to be naive like I was. They will destroy you, and you will be flattened like a pancake, per my experience.

I’ve warned you. Now it’s time for you to be the wise one.