Mother Is All Steam(punked) Up

(I’ve gone to my first steampunk convention ever, and I’ve gotten so nervous at the idea of meeting new people that I suffer from nausea. It isn’t long before I have to find a restroom to vomit. I’m the only one in there save for a little girl who is possibly 6-7 years old who approaches me in the middle of vomiting.)

Girl: “Can you help me tie my strings?”

Me: *answering once I’m able to* “I can’t right now.”

Girl: “I can’t tie these strings on my own, though. Can you please do it?”

Me: “Honey, I’m throwing up right now. I really can’t.”

(I get back to emptying my already empty stomach and she leaves. I don’t think anything more about it until later that day when the girl’s mother approaches me.)

Mom: “My daughter told me you yelled at her this morning when she asked you for help.”

Me: “I did? Who’s your daughter?”

Mom: “You don’t ever f***ing yell at my child again! She just wanted help with her dress. You had no right to be so f***ing rude to her!”

Me: “What? I wasn’t rude! I was throwing up when she asked me to help. All I said was I couldn’t help, because I was obviously throwing up!”

Mom: “You could have done it after you’d finished. B****.” *stomps off*

(Really…?)