I have been writing a post for today (in my head) since Wednesday. I just haven't had the time to sit and get it out and it has grown very long. We had a relaxing Blackout Night on Wednesday and Thursday was the blur that it always is, between music lessons and ballet and today was, well, let's say an inefficient day of driving around and wasting gas. There are stories in between, but something happened at dinner that trumped my stories tonight. It's stuck in the front of my brain.
We went out for fast food tonight. I'm sorry, but it's true. Times are desperate. And we let Emma go play in the kids' area and Andrew wasn't with us. Chris and I were sitting in our booth and I occasionally caught a few wisps of conversation from the booth behind us that told me it was occupied by two girls in their mid teens.
At some point, my phone rang and I had to sort of turn to the side to get it out of my purse. Just as I turned around, I heard one of the girls say to her friend,
"I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but you could stand to lose 20 pounds."
And the poor other girl had no better retort than, "How is that not mean?"
So my little mom antennae went "sproing!" and I couldn't help but listen for what was next.
There was some accusation of being a little overweight and a suggestion that the girl could start running or something.
I was pretty disgusted.
But then.
Oh, then.
The first girl says, "You know, (insert boy's name) has a great body. He really takes care of himself and puts out some effort. All I'm saying is that if you lost, like, 20 pounds, he'd date you in a second."
Hooo boy.
I looked at Chris and I asked if he'd heard what I just heard. He hadn't, but he seemed to regret that I'd heard whatever was putting the look on my face that I had. Because he knew what was about to happen. He hates it when I address strangers. He really does.
But I was calm. I was good. I just coolly leaned back and uttered the overly-simplistic pop culture mantra of, "If he doesn't like you how you are, he isn't worth it."
See? I was good. It could've been worse. I have definitely said more embarrassing things to strangers.
And the poor girl gratefully acknowledged her agreement with me, and I left them alone. But I knew I was red all the way from my chest up to my chin because I was so angry.
I mean, I know it's not cool to be the mom person and call kids out for the stupid stuff they do. I used to hate it when my mom did that kind of stuff. Well, I still hate it when my mom does that kind of stuff. But it comes down to this - if my daughter were ever stuck across the table from some bitch who was telling her to drop 20 pounds so a self-absorbed teenage boy would want to go out with her, I'd want a (somewhat) older woman to intervene. I really would.
So I did it.
I would also like to state for the record that the attacked party stood up and I could not see where she'd find 20 pounds to drop.
It is entirely too late for me to get philosophical on this. Suffice it to say that here is yet another example of why I hung out with boys and of what scares me most about raising a daughter.
DAILY BLISS: Pushing Daisies on DVD - colorful sets, quirky dialogue and gorgeous dresses. It may as well have come out of my own head.
5 comments:
You go Mom!!!!!
proud of you my dear!
Oh girl, do you remind me of ME! I can't resist those same urges, and like you, I usually memorialize such occasions in my newspaper column. (My kids just love reading about their escapades.) I've found that it's somewhat less heartbreaking to raise a boy than it is a girl because, face it, boys don't usually critique their pals' appearance. When talking to adolescents before writing by soon to be released "tween" novel, Grumble Bluff, I realized that most kids didn't have a low self-image until a peer pointed out to them that they should! So I approve of gently taking them to task... we adults have been through the cruel adolescent years, and it's our job to guide the little darlings through to their own age of enlightenment! Karen Bessey Pease, author of juvenile fiction, roomtomove@tds.net
Hey Karen! Thanks for popping in! I grew up brothers and my mother was an only girl. I married a man with no sisters. In fact, the first girl born into his family for forty years was my daughter! Oh - and my dad had no sisters either. So I definitely knew what to expect with a son. A daughter? This is new territory :)
That poor girl doesn't need friends like that either. Shameful.
In my brief glimpses of Emma, I can't imagine her listening to such garbage without a well worded rebuttal entailing her firm grasp on how beautiful she already is. Any boy who is blind to it, would surely be too dense for her continued acquaintance.
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