Death stare.

If there's one thing I've become far too accustomed to as a parent, it's the disapproving death stare I receive from ... well, just about everyone when I go out in public. It's not always an immediate death stare. It actually starts out as a happy smile, accompanied by a little sigh and a gutteral, "Awww" in the back of the throat. It's especially common with the geriatric breeds. But then the smile falls, usually as a result of something I do, and you're left with the death stare.

Things I have done in the past week that have warranted the death stare:

1.) Telling my daughter in the middle of JoAnn Fabrics, "Dude, I have to take a MASSIVE shit right now."

2.) Driving through a busy parking lot with a tantruming baby in the back seat, and, with the car windows down, yelling, "Shut up and ENJOY RADIOHEAD!" while concurrently cranking up, yes, that's right, Radiohead.

3.) Getting cut off in traffic, slamming on your breaks, and yelling in front of a busload of schoolchildren, "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

4.) Walking past a douchebag old lady trying to back into a parking spot and loudly saying to your child, "Punky, that's called double parking. That's what douchebags do."