You know what I hate? People that are in your shit and they have no reason to be. You know what I hate more than that? People that purposely steps in shit and then they complain that it stinks. I was at the doctor’s office the other day minding my own business. In the waiting room, there was me, two women sitting next to each other and appeared to have become BFF’s while waiting (we’ll call them Perp 1 & 2), and another woman across the room with her toddler (we’ll call her the victim). There were also a couple of men in there but I think they were waiting for their spouses. Their completely insignificant to this post so I won’t even bother with them. So, the victim as I mentioned was with her toddler, who was in a stroller. Also with her is a McDonald’s bag and in it was some nuggets she was feeding to her child. This was around 1 o’clock in the afternoon, so I’m guessing on her way to the doctor’s office, she did a drive by at McDo and ordered her hungry child some, grasp for air, nuggets.
She got up and pushed the stroller when the front desk called her name. Not even a few seconds later, Perp 1 & 2 looked at each other and shook their head. They said something to the effect of, “How dare her buy her son some nuggets. She is an awful mother and should be burned in hell for such an atrocious crime.” Ok, maybe not exactly like that but you get what I mean. Perp 1 says to Perp 2, “Can you believe that? What kind of mother would feed her son McDonald’s?” Perp 2 says, “The kind that doesn’t care about her child’s well-being.”
Then, they had the audacity to lure me in their conversation assuming I am in agreement with their verdict by asking, “Don’t you think so?” I looked at these two women and said (with my neck rolling and index finger circling the air), “You should be ashamed of yourselves. How dare you judge her and her parenting skills? You know nothing of her situation, but let me tell you about mine. I have a son that at 3 years of age has no language. He has melt downs because he can’t express himself. I have to play a guessing game for everything he might be asking me, and sometimes, just sometimes, when my husband is not able to be at home to watch him, I drive to McDonald’s and buy him some nuggets so that I can keep him quiet while my vagina is being invaded by a stethoscope. And you know what else, my son’s diet consists of healthy and nutritious meals for the most part. I’d hate to be judged for doing something once every six months. It’s hard enough raising a typically developing child, imagine raising one with special needs. So I hope the next time you judge another mom and think you’re some kind of a stuck up Fast Food Nazi, you think about what her situation might be because you obviously have no clue. The sad part is, had she brought her son in here with his melt down and cried the entire time, you’ll be judging her for that too and saying something like, ‘Oh no! She can’t discipline her child. She should be hanged to death.’ So why don’t you learn to shut your face because no one’s calling you ugly bitches.” in my head. What I really said was, “Yup, just awful” while shaking my head. And yes, I am ashamed and should be shot.