I need a new dry cleaner

So, this morning I was able to grab a yogurt for breakfast while Enzo was entertained for four minutes by his Pooh Bear Spinning Top. Then I hung about 50' of lighted, pine-coney garland on our banisters while he napped for 30 minutes. I was able to read and reply to about 15 work emails and four personal emails and play catch up with my Facebook profile and friend requests just moments before he woke up. After feeding him (while I worked on my FY09 work budget) and burped him and kept him upright for 20 minutes to reduce his acid reflux, I stole an express shower (no time for conditioner) before practicing his sitting up. The hair went into a pony, I managed to smear moisturizer on my face and brush my teeth, and threw on my elastic wastebanded yoga pants (I mean, it was like a chilly 60 degrees) before I realized that I had exactly 15 minutes to hit the post office, bank, and dry cleaners before Enzo would deliver the dreaded-in-public wail, demanding a feeding.

So, I schlep him into the post office to buy one measly stamp, to find out the stupid stamp machine was broken which forced me into the long line. He starts screaming and Mr. Post Office greeter guy runs to the back and returns with a USPS squeezie soccer ball for Enzo. Sweet. Then, to the bank where the "automatic check reader" won't read the freaking check I have to deposit and I'll be sent over the edge if I have to park the car, put him in the stroller, and wait in another line. It's only a $10 reimbursement check from gratuities on my last business trip. I stuff it in my purse.

I decide to make my last stop at the dry cleaner. The ladies in the shop go crazy for Enzo, poking him and talking Korean baby talk. The woman counting my pieces says "how many you have?"

"Five," I say.
She seems surprised, so I clarify that I have five pieces, not kids.

"He is my first," I then declare.

"Oh, really?" She looks me up and down (as I try to hold Enzo, not drop Jeff's suit on the floor, and fill out the order slip). "You marry very late, huh?"

Shut up, lady, alright? I was only 29 when I got married, and I'm only 32 with my first baby, okay? Geez, and I would have brushed and blow dried my hair and put on a face of make-up if I was going anywhere important -- oh, and had an extra 40 minutes to invest in ME!! And no, I haven't lost my baby weight, or the 50 extra pounds I started the pregnancy out with.

That evil lady probably had her five kids by the time she was 32. And she probably has the time to exercise, wash all the dishes, and daily dust and vacuum her house.

I need a new dry cleaner.