Sometimes I think I have a mild case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Is that an oxymoron?

Maybe.

At any rate, I have a few “hang ups.” And sometimes, they concern me.

Like today. Today we had to leave one of those mall play area things because this kid had a ring pop.

Okay that sounded even weirder when I wrote it. Let me explain.

Today, for the first time in my life, I went to a mall on Black Friday. Mostly due to chance. Was driving by on the way home from Thanksgiving at my brother’s house, baby started crying, mall was on the left, we went in.

And I thought to myself “Huh. This is the first time I’m not avoiding a store on Black Friday.”

Then we entered the mall and I remembered why I avoid stores on Black Friday.

But I digress. As usual.

So we’re in this mall and I start walking 4 steps into stores then turning immediately around due to check-out line lengths, knowing that even if I saved fifty bucks on whatever, hell, even if they HANDED me fifty bucks, I wouldn’t stand in those monstrous lines with 25,000 neurotic deal-hungry humans.

But that’s not the OCD part. Despite appearances.

So we’re in this mall and since the actual shopping isn’t panning out, we buy some coffee and decide to let the baby and kids run around one of those enclosed play areas.

Seemed like a fine plan.

And it was.

Until I noticed this girl with a ring pop. She had this ring pop, blue to be exact, and it’s appropriately on her finger. She’s running around sucking on this thing and waving it around, going down the slide and whatever…and…crawling on the ground dragging her ring pop then picking the fuzz off it and licking it again.

I stare at her with my jaw agape. At least I think it was. It was in my head.

I swat Mac and show him. Appalled.

He says something along the lines of “Yeah, and we wonder why people in America aren’t going to college. I mean the ring pop problem alone…”

And I realize he’s going to be no help in this situation.

I yell for the kids and tell them to avoid the ring-pop girl at all costs.

They look at me like I’m fucking insane and go back to playing.

Next to her.

I’m cringing.

I’m imagining that blue sugary spit-covered mess touching my baby’s head.

I glare at her parents. Obviously.

I realize at this point I’m being a nutjob. But there’s no going back at this point. I’m totally hung up on this – staring and obsessing and contemplating the destruction of our society, one ring pop at a time.

I get up and grab the baby, put her on another structure.

Ring-pop girl follows. Sucks the candy then pulls a piece of hair from her mouth, which was, evidently, an unwelcome guest clinging to her delicious Red Dye Number “Cancer” treat.

I can’t take it. Decide we must leave. Right NOW.

And…we leave.

Okay so is that OCD? I mean in hindsight it really wasn’t THAT big of a deal, but something about it just disgusted me and I couldn’t stand watching her flail around with that thing in mid-air, just ready to bop one of my kids in the face so I then had to clean sugary mess off their mostly clean mugs.

I just threw up a little in my mouth.

And that, my friends, is just another one of the many reasons I am not a kindergarten teacher.

I hate ring pops.

Can we all just agree ring pops are a freaking bad idea?