Jan 18 2011
That Woman
We all know her. She’s that woman who fusses at the teenagers from two houses down (who really aren’t doing any harm, or even being loud) to not lay in the street at night in dark clothes. She’s that woman who looks down her nose hautily at the too-short skirts and shorts and low-cut tops of teenage (or, let’s face it, any younger-than-her — or older-than-her, for that matter) girl and clearly thinks, “I’d never let MY daughter leave the house in that” (or, if she’s a boy-mom thinks, “I sure hope MY son never brings THAT home”).
She’s that woman who has no qualms about totally embarrassing her kids by (1) being silly and dancing to music she likes IN PUBLIC or (2) simply acknowledging that they are, in fact, her kids. She’s also that woman who seems to have no filter and will make audible snide comments to rude people – like folks who don’t know how to share the sidewalk or are so wrapped up in texting that the real world doesn’t exist anymore. She’s that woman who raises her fist, or possibly another appendage, and shouts “SLOW DOWN!” to the cars zooming past her house with rolled up windows.
She’s that woman who thinks (and might even say) “that child needs socks/hat/coat on” or “it’s far too late for that child to be out” or even “that tv/movie/video is NOT appropriate for that age!”
In short, she’s your mother…and I have turned into her.
One Response to “That Woman”
After re-reading this, I realize it sounds rather judg-y. My intent, actually, was to show how sort of appalled I was at myself for (on my weaker, tougher days) being just that – judgy. Just wanted to clarify.