Dear A$$hat at Playland,
Yeah, I called you a name. Over the last hour or so, I’ve called you a few more in my head. I am sorry if my child made yours feel “dumb”. No child should feel dumb. I have to tell you though, I didn’t see that. They seemed mostly happy to play together. I would suggest that you were the one with some feeling of inadequacy, but really, that is not my son’s fault. It isn’t mine either. You are the one who chose to compare.
You didn’t know we’d had a bad morning. You didn’t know that we’d already been to my elder son’s school twice or that I lost my cool and yelled at him. You didn’t know I walked into the playland feeling about six inches tall and trying to make it up to my littler boy by being extra attentive. You didn’t know that’s why we were even there in the first place. And you didn’t know that’s why I was making a big deal over my four-year-old counting to 3600 by tens. He seemed to want me to be wowed, so I kept exclaiming over his counting because I was being supportive. Between you and me, I’m not astonished by any counting anymore. My child has blown me away so many times with that that it’s almost not noteworthy. That encouragement was for him, not me “showing him off”.
I do know you hadn’t liked when I redirected your daughter. Really, that wasn’t my place. The thing is, the balloon string she was threading across the playground stairs put my child at risk. I was nice about it. I only said, “That’s not a good idea.” I didn’t say, “Gee, honey, don’t you think you should give your brother his balloon back so he’ll stop screaming?” or even “It’s not very nice to take your baby brother’s balloon and put it where he can’t get it.” Neither did you. In fact, you seemed kind of oblivious to your screaming baby. You were embroiled in whatever was on your phone. That’s why I didn’t think you’d intervene with the string threading. And if my son came running up those stairs, he could have been injured. Not cool. Given the same circumstances, I’d do the same thing.
I know I can’t keep you from talking badly about me or my son behind our backs. But next time, could you do it BEHIND OUR BACKS? At least wait until you’re out of earshot before you tell your phone friend that I’m “showing off my little parrot to make [your] kids feel dumb”. My son could hear you and that does make him feel awkward. You know what else? If anything made your children feel dumb, it was probably hearing you say that about them. And sorry, but that does make you an asshat.
Proud Mom of A Number Addict