I don’t think I mentioned something reasonably disturbing and funny that happened when I was in Austin.
While my friend and I were at the pool, my friend’s little girl had an emergency bathroom situation, forcing my friend to leave the pool area in a flash, leaving me with her 1 year old who is going through a fairly consistent separation anxiety phase. While her baby cried for most of the 10 minutes or so that she was gone. I tried to calm her down via various tried and true techniques, finally resorting to feigning excitement over a floating leaf. This quieted her so quickly that all the kids in the kiddie pool area retreated to the bushes to bring her leaf offerings. Of course, the minute she realized she’d been dooped, she proceeded to cry again.
It was at this point that one of the little boys asked me why she was crying. He then asked me the question every 41 year old woman dreads hearing.
“Are you her GRANDMA?”
Gulp. “What? No, I’m just a friend,” I said. Oh dear god.
If that were not excruciatingly painful enough, Sofia scurried over and exclaimed loudly “WHAT? SHE’S NOT HER GRANDMA! SHE’S MY MOMMY!”
It was at that point that I was hoping the pool drain would suck me into oblivion. As if getting into a bathing suit at 200+ lbs in public were not punishment enough.
Oh and it wasn’t over.
When my friend returned, Sofia had to recount – LOUDLY, very LOUDLY – the whole scene again. "
“That boy thought my mommy was Ziva’s GRANDMA!” she laughed, in case any of the hotel’s 300+ guests has missed the news the first 2 times.
My friend laughed and tried to make me feel better about it, quite logically explaining that in Texas, many women do have kids young so maybe his grandmother is very young, yada yada.
Unfortunately, logic and vanity are not necessarily compatible.
1 comment:
I just found your blog in the last week or so ... and with this post I'm probably destined to be a long time reader. My first daughter was born just two weeks after my 43rd birthday and my b/g twins shortly after my 44th. I was called grandma for the FIRST time just when my first was about 3 months old ... I laughed it off thinking ... well i AM old enough .. but it has only gotten worse. I'm quite the sight in the grocery store pushing a double stroller and pulling a grocery cart with a third child...i get a lot of "wow...grandma really has her hands full" ... I'm assuming this will get worse when she enters kindergarten and I'm a whopping 49...yikes.
I love your blog
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