The ocean called and they're running out of shrimp

"Oh yeah, really? Well, the Jerk Store called, and they're running out of you."

I'm like George, who doesn't have a comeback till it's too late. Here are a few examples of situations where I should have said something, but I didn't.

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"What do you mean you don't know how to make a bottle? You have two kids."
"Both my kids are breast-fed."
"So you've never made a bottle?"
At this point I mumble something like "well i'm sure i could figure it out - scoop and water, right?"
What I should have said is: "No, I have never made a bottle because these are my two bottles (pointing crudely at my boobs) and I don't know why you think that not knowing how to mix powdered milk with water makes me a bad mother. My bottles are always warm, always full, easy to clean and full of yummy goodness...and they prevent against (Are you ready?) ear infections, stomach viruses, diarrhea, respiratory infections, asthma, obesity, Type 1 AND Type 2 diabetes, childhood leukemia, and SIDS. So bitch, go mix me a margarita and shut the fuck up about your stupid bottles. Oh, and by the way, I was just kidding about the margarita because I'm BREAST-FEEDING*."

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"Wait. Where does she sleep then?" We're at a park and there's a mom with two kids who are both a few months older than my kids.
"She still in bed with me. I swore after him that I would never get up out of bed to go sit in the baby's room to nurse. So she's in bed with us till she night weans."
"But she sleeps in her crib for naps?" her brow is furrowed and I'm starting to get the sense that she is judging me.
"Yup."
"But she won't sleep in her crib at night?" I was right. She's judging me.
"She does till about 10 and then she comes into bed with us."
"Hmph. Both my kids are good sleepers."
"You're lucky." There was more, but I'll spare you the details.
What I should have said is: You're judging me? Bitch, your kid is over there freezing his ass off because you forgot to bring him a long-sleeve shirt or a sweater. And not that you forgot it in the car, you forgot it at home. Even though we live in Colorado. And it's spring time. And it snowed two days ago. So while your kid is standing there, cold to the bone with his thumb up his ass, my toasty-warm kid is running circles around him."

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We're at story-time in the library and a mom shows up late. She sits part-way into the circle and gives her kid, who is in her stroller, also part-way into the circle, a set of keys. Then her friend shows up, so now they're about half-way into the circle, oblivious to the toddlers sitting behind them. And then, this is the part that pisses me off...they start talking. During story-time. At the library. And I can't really hear what they're saying because the baby in the stroller is banging those goddamn keys so loudly. But I said nothing.
What I should have said is: "Excuse me, hon? Could you please skooch back out of the circle, stop talking to your friend, and trade that Mr. Roper-sized ring of keys out of your baby's hand for something quieter? Thanks."

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Same story-time except this mom is across the circle on her phone while her kid, Daniel, who is about three years older and a foot taller than the other kids, is sitting in the front row. He has his arms out-stretched and his hoodie flipped up over his head, blocking about as much of the view as one single solitary kid possibly can. But the worst part is that he apparently had already been to story-time that week and the library asks that you only come to one story-time a week because it's no fun for anyone when your kid ruins the story for the other kids by loudly blurting out the ending. to. every. single. book. The librarian, god bless her, asked Daniel to pipe down and when he said, "We already read that book!" She looked right at the mother and said nothing. She then looked back at her book and said, "Yes, it's the same story as Tuesday. You're right. Same stories all week long."
What she should have said is: "Bitch, put your fucking phone down and pay attention to your kid. He is up here flapping his sweater wings and ruining every single story for all the other kids. You might not be able to hear him over those two moms over there talking during story-time while that baby jingles those goddamn keys but seriously. You adults need to learn how to behave in public so that you don't raise a bunch of neanderthals. Now, who wants a fucking cookie?"

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*Just to be clear - I do not think I am a better mother than anyone else because I breast-feed. I think that breast-feeding is a societal issue and that American women do not get nearly enough education or support when it comes to learning how to breast-feed. Breast-feeding is hard. Just ask my friend who has had mastitis...oh, I lost count at four times. She might be up to five. But damn it if she hasn't stuck it out because she is committed to breast-feeding her kids. And both my kids are tongue-tied, which has made feeding them a bit more challenging (not that I'm comparing it to mastitis...oh no I am NOT!) And again, I don't think I'm a better mom - a more committed mom, yes. A more educated mom, sometimes yes. A mom willing to make some serious short-term sacrifices with the long-term goal in mind? Yes. I mean, have you seen the bags under my eyes?!? But a better mom? No, there are plenty of wonderful mothers who give their children formula for one reason or another. But what gets my panties all in a bunch is when a mother who chose formula over breast-milk, which is unequivocally better for the health of the child and the mother, wants to judge me and question my choice as if there's anything to question.