Some People Are Just the Worst

Last month we officially joined a Kiddie Gym, and I’ve been taking Nora there almost every day. Due to my social anxiety (which results in an inadvertent yet epic resting bitch face that I am completely oblivious to until a homeless man inevitably sees me on the street and screams “Smile, sweetheart! Life’s not so bad!”), for the first few weeks I  pretty much kept to myself and probably wasn’t giving off the friendliest vibes to other moms.

Then today I decided that I’ve become more comfortable with the familiar faces and perhaps it’s time to try to be social and (gasp!) maybe even make a friend.

So this morning Nora was climbing the mats with a toddler boy who started getting a little rough, and his mom, who seemed pretty cool and normal and like someone I could totally be friends with, stepped in…

Boy’s Mom: “Nick, honey. Be gentle with the little girl. She’s just a baby!” (turns to me) “Sorry about that, he doesn’t know his own strength. We’re working on it.”

Me: “Oh, no worries at all! And it’s fine, Nora’s tough. I’m just impressed you knew she was a girl! Everyone always assumes she’s a boy.”

Boy’s Mom: “Oh, no, no! I’ll never make THAT mistake again!”

Me: “Oh did you think some short-haired baby girl was a boy and the mom had absolutely NO sense of humor about it?”

Boy’s Mom: “Yes…”

Me: <laughing> “Some people are just the worst.”

Boy’s Mom: “It was you. Last week.”

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We didn’t become friends.

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