The Mother Of All Nice Remarks

(I’ve always looked young for my age; even now at 30 I can still pass for a teenager, so I am used to odd looks and snarky comments when I take my baby daughter out on my own. She is hot, tired, and hungry. I just about manage to rock her in one arm, whilst preparing a bottle in the other. I eventually settle her down, get her fed, burped, and happy. I can feel the eyes of the family next to me bear down on me. Eventually the father of the group wanders over. I prepare for another lousy comment.)

Father: “You’re doing a great job.”

(That was it. It took me a few moments to unclench waiting for the mean remark.)

Me: “Er, thanks?”

(With a smile he left again. It was a rough day, but small comments can mean the world.)