The Next Generation Versus The Last One

(I am visiting my friend. She has a lot of errands to run with her boyfriend. We go to the bank first. While they’re setting things up, I’m watching their daughter.)

Me: “Hey princess, what do you want to do while waiting?”

Friend’s Daughter: “Up!”

(I pick her up and twirl her around a few times while she giggles.)

Me: “Aww, you really like that! I’m gonna miss it when you’re too big for this.”

(A teller looks over and smiles at us.)

Teller: “She looks like a really happy kid.”

(I realize pretty quickly he thinks she is my daughter, but he’s being nice, so I don’t bother to correct him.)

Me: “Thanks!”

(As we talk, another customer is giving a disapproving glare both at my friend’s daughter, and at my hair, which is blonde at the ends.)

Customer: “You should be ashamed! Having a kid at your age, and setting such a bad example!”

(I’m stunned. I’m in my third year of college, and I realize I look younger than I am, but my friend’s daughter isn’t even two years old. My friends have finished with their deposit and head over.)

Me: “Hey princess, see mommy!”

Friend’s Daughter: “Mama!”

Friend: “Thanks for watching her!”

Me: “No problem!”

Customer: *embarrassed*