Mother or Martyr?

Following on from my last dummy spit post, I thought I would reveal a little more about our lives. We run a retail store, Big Boy and I. Thus, this time of year is more manic than any other period. We work six days a week, 16 hour days are not unusual for at least one if not both of us (luckily, I can do some  of the admin things from home). We do not see each other, we rarely have family time. We also tend to find the customers a little less tolerant at Christmas than usual. A perfect example of this occurred yesterday when Big Boy received a phone call complaining about a product. Conversation (which I could hear as the customer was screaming) went along the lines of this:

Big Boy: "Hello, **** ******." (Insert our business name)
Customer 1: "Yes, this is such and such. I purchased this widget from you 6 weeks ago and it is faulty."
Big Boy: "Ah, Mr  such and such, from *****, I remember you. How can I help?  Can you explain to me what is happening when you turn it on."
Customer 1: "It is faulty, I want a refund."
Big Boy: "If you could explain what the problem is maybe I can help resolve it without you having to send the product back." (Customer is other side of country.)
Customer 1 screaming: "I know my rights. I've looked at the consumer affairs website. I want a refund."
Big Boy: "Sir, if you would please calm down, I am trying to help."
Customer 1: "I am a member of the ********* Society over here and I am telling everyone you sell dodgy goods and are frauds!"

Now this went on for another five minutes more until finally Big Boy calmed him and he explained the issue. And guess what? Product wasn't faulty, user was!

Which is why Big Boy and not Madmother handles all the customers. I would have hung up much earlier when the swearing started. Did the dickhead customer apologise? Hell, no. They never do. And we would have at least one phone call and one in store EVERY day over the Christmas period. Big Boy is amazing. In the eight years we have had the business he has only thrown one tosser out of the store. He is polite, calm, rational - then he comes home and vents to me!

But it is this pressure-filled fast pace of life which makes me do my drama queen bit. You know, the "look at moi... look at MOI!" Posts. I love to blog but being a mother means my needs go to the bottom of the list. We all do it. And if I don't see any comments I do tend to do a why bother to myself.

Yes, it is very princessy, yes a bit delicate little petal too, but hey... even a Madmother has her tiny foibles...