So I had an epiphany this week. This happens so rarely that I feel compelled to share, despite the fact that you probably couldn’t care less. My epiphany is this: While not excusable, I am the only one who is allowed to say horrible, mean things to Maya.
Now this might sound ridiculous – crazy even – but the moment I feel the slightest possibility that someone is going to make Maya feel bad I jump into defensive mode.
So you can imagine why my heart stopped for a second when I heard Maya ask a little girl at the Playplace if they could be best friends. And you can imagine how angry I was when I watched the girl flip her blond hair and answer, “No, I don’t want to be your friend.”
As her irresponsible, but perfectly coiffed mother looked on and said nothing. (What? One must acknowledge good hair).
I alternately wanted to hug Maya, ask the little brat what her problem was, and smack the girl’s mom across the face.
What did I really do? I told Maya – loud enough so that the brat and her mom could hear – that she was too good to be friends with the girl in the first place. And then I went against all parenting books I’ve skimmed and bought Maya ice cream.
So what’s the lesson in all of this?
That I MUST stop going to the Playplace, that mean girls learn their meanness from their mean moms, and that sugar does indeed cure all.