(I’m hanging out with my friend and her fiancée, picking out music for my group to play at their wedding. We’re all female.)

Friend: “Oooh, have you got- You do! Let’s put Somewhere Over the Rainbow in, that’s perfect.”

Me: “Okay.” *checks it off list*

Friend: “And then…” *leafs through binder* “Yeah, let’s do Rainbow Connection, too.”

Fiancée: *singing* “Why are there so many songs about rainbows?”

Friend: “Uhhh, because it’s a gay wedding. Duh.”

Fiancée: “Good point.” *keeps singing*

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(My birthday is in December. The year ‘Napoleon Dynamite’ comes out, I spend WEEKS emphatically telling my mother’s fiancé that I have no interest in the movie and don’t want it. For my birthday, he gives me ‘Napoleon Dynamite’ on DVD. I toss it in a corner and do my best to forget about it, but when he visits for New Year’s, he insists we (him, myself, my mother, my sister, and my girlfriend) watch it. I submit because I can’t stand the idea of ever actually arguing with him, but I do not enjoy the movie at all, and am irritated and restless throughout. As midnight approaches, we pause the movie to watch the ball drop in New York.)

Girlfriend: *looking at me as we turn the movie off* “I have never seen as much hate in your eyes as I see right now.”

(I am seven years old. It is my grandma’s 73rd birthday. I always make a card instead of buying one.)

Me: “Here, Gramma!”

Card: “Happy Birthday, Grammy! I can’t believe you’re 73 and not dead yet. I still love you.”

(My grandma starts laughing hysterically.)

Mom: “What’s so funny?”

Grandma: “Look at what your son gave me.”

(My mom starts laughing. Everyone starts coming over to see what’s so funny. With everyone laughing at my gift, I start to get mad. I wasn’t trying to be funny. That’s just how I am.)

Grandma: “Oh, [My Name]. I love my gift. This one’s a keeper.”

(Fourteen years later, my grandma died at the ripe old age of 87. My mom and I were cleaning out her place. I found that card in a drawer alongside other keepsakes like my grandpa’s license; he had died twenty years earlier. That one was a keeper indeed.)

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Associate: “Hi, any questions?”

Me: “No, just browsing.”

Associate: “Really? No questions? What’s my favorite color? What’s the capital of Iceland?”

Me: “Reykjavik.”

Associate: *high-fives me* “You are the first person to get that! You’re my favorite customer!”

(Gotta say, I left the store feeling pretty good after that.)

(I am a student, and I babysit for money. On Mondays, I take the little boy I watch to the playground for a few hours and helicopter around him in case he hurts himself. A mother at the park approaches me.)

Mother: “You know, I just want to tell you: I see you here every Monday and I think it’s just great that you are such a hands-on young mother.”

Me: “Oh! I’m not his mother! I’m just his babysitter. But thank you anyway!”

Mother: “Sweetie, you don’t need to be embarrassed! You should embrace being a great mom, especially at such a young age. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you as a single mom in your early 20s!”

Me: “Uhm, really, I am not his mother. I am just his babysitter. But I’m flattered you think I am doing a great job caring for him!”

(The mother walks away to the sandbox area, where other mothers are sitting just within earshot.)

Mother: “You ladies will not believe this! That girl over there is trying to claim that that baby is not hers! Some people! I wonder if her parents have brainwashed her into thinking it’s their baby. There are some really crazy people out there huh?”

Related:
Ah, Mothers, Part 7
Ah, Mothers, Part 6
Ah, Mothers, Part 5
Ah, Mothers, Part 4
Ah, Mothers, Part 3

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