I am a conflicted individual. I love to tell people it’s dumb to care what others think and yet I find it nearly impossible to stop caring what other people think.
Take yesterday for example…Maya and I were spending quality time at the park (read: I was reading Heart of the Matter while she played with all the germ-infested kids) when Maya picked up a piece of chalk and started drawing hopscotch tiles.
My thoughts after seeing this scary sight:
- My God is Maya dyslexic?
- Holy sh#$ we need to go home and STUDY.
- Half of Maya’s school is at the park and if other moms see this they might wonder why a first grader is still writing her numbers backward.
I thought about whisking Maya away before anybody realized she was the culprit. But then I realized it was only 3:15 pm and the thought of having to single-handedly entertain Maya for the next 5 hours seemed more difficult than doing damage control.
So then I decided to try to erase the numbers with the toe of my shoe. 5 minutes later I had bright blue chalk all over the pretty Repetto shoes I bought in Paris and the offensive numbers were still crystal clear.
I was standing there like an idiot, brainstorming alternatives, when I heard a mom scream: “If you throw sand at your sister one more time I’m going to make you sorry you were born.”
My kid might not be able to remember which way her numbers go but at least she’s not dangerous. And I haven’t had to threaten Maya’s life yet. So maybe we’re in better shape than I thought?