A "Thank You" note
Dear Nice Lady in Target,
I just wanted to thank you for being so incredibly sweet to me in "the happiest place on earth," AKA Target! Not only did you compliment me on my taste in cardigans (one must always go with fushia), you kindly said to me, "Don't worry. I'm not going to judge you," when I let my son, Cam, wander around the pharmacy aisles WITHOUT shoes on!
You see, I had to fill a prescription in a hurry. I dashed in to that glorious store with my little man in tow, bouncing merrily on my hip. I had every intention of making my trip a quick one, and in my lightening-fast, whirlwind-like speed, I neglected to notice that Cam was my "shoeless wonder." Unfortunately, I realized this too late--after I had bypassed the red shopping carts at the front of the store, and had decided I wouldn't need one. Oops. And I was already in line with you.
I'm sure you noticed how fussy and squirmy that adorable boy was on my hip. I'm sure you noticed I was failing miserably at trying to juggle a wallet, a set of keys, a chubby baby, and a big (but gorgeous) purse at the same time. My little man was dying to leap out of my arms, land firmly on the ground, and take off running (or rather, waddling rapidly) through the vitamins. He wanted to be free of my clutches. I could see it in his eyes.
"No way," I thought to myself, as I caught Cam in the middle of a botched swan dive, "No way am I putting him down in his WHITE socks. What will everyone think? Will they question what kind of mother I am?"
At this point, I could feel my upper lip starting to perspire. I've learned the joys (insert sarcasm) of "stress sweating" since becoming a mama, and it ain't fun! Cam--throwing a tantrum in my arms-- was making my transaction with the pharmacist extremely difficult. But, "Nice Lady in Target," you smiled so warmly at me I felt my heart melt in my chest, like buttah on toast!
In utter frustration and exhaustion, I plopped my little man down and let him wander around in his socks. I watched his joyful glee, and had to admit he was pretty darling--squealing and babbling--among the shelves stocked with humidifiers. As I picked up my prescription and turned to leave, I saw you watching Cam toddle around. I smiled sheepishly at you and said, "Ugh! That makes me look like a terrible mother; letting him walk around like that, without shoes on!" Your quiet giggling turned to happy laughter, and you said, "Oh Honey! Don't worry so much! We've all been there...and you can wash the socks."
Thank you for your compassion and good nature, "Nice Lady in Target." I suppose you'll never really know how grateful I am for your kindness. Or for Tide laundry detergent.
Most sincerely,
Mama Leisha
I just wanted to thank you for being so incredibly sweet to me in "the happiest place on earth," AKA Target! Not only did you compliment me on my taste in cardigans (one must always go with fushia), you kindly said to me, "Don't worry. I'm not going to judge you," when I let my son, Cam, wander around the pharmacy aisles WITHOUT shoes on!
You see, I had to fill a prescription in a hurry. I dashed in to that glorious store with my little man in tow, bouncing merrily on my hip. I had every intention of making my trip a quick one, and in my lightening-fast, whirlwind-like speed, I neglected to notice that Cam was my "shoeless wonder." Unfortunately, I realized this too late--after I had bypassed the red shopping carts at the front of the store, and had decided I wouldn't need one. Oops. And I was already in line with you.
I'm sure you noticed how fussy and squirmy that adorable boy was on my hip. I'm sure you noticed I was failing miserably at trying to juggle a wallet, a set of keys, a chubby baby, and a big (but gorgeous) purse at the same time. My little man was dying to leap out of my arms, land firmly on the ground, and take off running (or rather, waddling rapidly) through the vitamins. He wanted to be free of my clutches. I could see it in his eyes.
"No way," I thought to myself, as I caught Cam in the middle of a botched swan dive, "No way am I putting him down in his WHITE socks. What will everyone think? Will they question what kind of mother I am?"
At this point, I could feel my upper lip starting to perspire. I've learned the joys (insert sarcasm) of "stress sweating" since becoming a mama, and it ain't fun! Cam--throwing a tantrum in my arms-- was making my transaction with the pharmacist extremely difficult. But, "Nice Lady in Target," you smiled so warmly at me I felt my heart melt in my chest, like buttah on toast!
In utter frustration and exhaustion, I plopped my little man down and let him wander around in his socks. I watched his joyful glee, and had to admit he was pretty darling--squealing and babbling--among the shelves stocked with humidifiers. As I picked up my prescription and turned to leave, I saw you watching Cam toddle around. I smiled sheepishly at you and said, "Ugh! That makes me look like a terrible mother; letting him walk around like that, without shoes on!" Your quiet giggling turned to happy laughter, and you said, "Oh Honey! Don't worry so much! We've all been there...and you can wash the socks."
Thank you for your compassion and good nature, "Nice Lady in Target." I suppose you'll never really know how grateful I am for your kindness. Or for Tide laundry detergent.
Most sincerely,
Mama Leisha
I, too, love both Tide and Target, and I hope to encounter more women like your "Nice Lady in Target" than not as I forge on into the insanity of motherhood.
ReplyDeleteIt always feels like everyone out in public is judging our mothering skills. But I am pretty sure most of them, the women anyway, are just empathizing. And if not, its not like you will see those strangers again. Let them think what they want. Glad you got a nice one!
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