Imagined Slights

I hate doctors. They're snobby. And they don't listen well.

I hate med students too. They're pretty snobby as well. And they always act like they carry the freaking weight of the world on their shoulders.

But I hate blond wives of 3rd and 4th year med students the most right now. Or I did last Saturday. Now, this is a fair warning. This isn't a particularly kind post. And most of it's pure, evil speculation on my part. And I don't really feel this way about such people in general. But the point of this post is to illustrate a situation that may someday arise in your life. So mark it well and be prepared...

Last Friday was the last day of school for me (Praise the Almighty, Brother!). So on Saturday, the school holds this big stupid shindig called "Big Stupid Shindig" (I'm lying) for all the medical students and their families/friends/significant others/escorts. It started at 7 PM and ostensibly went until midnight.

Well, our families (see above) were invited, and I had already shelled out mucho buckaroos for my favorite babysitter (my little brother) on Friday night. So I decided I'd just haul the munchkin along for kicks. I had a long talk with him before we went about speaking when spoken to and minding manners and not running around, etc. And he was actually pretty much the best kid ever that night, and I told him so after we left. It's such a gift when our children behave precisely the way we want them to, when we want them to. Mainly because it happens so infrequently...

E was the only child there above the age of 2 (not counting the male portion of the attendees, naturally). And apparently, all the mommies and daddies of those 2-year-olds were SUPER PALS. All the 2-year-olds either had pregnant moms or siblings in slings, which I think is pretty cool. I mean, that way, you don't ever have to actually play with your children, because you just provide them with automatic playmates for life!! (And I'm kidding. My mom had both my younger sister and brother before I was three and a half. But seriously, we did have playmates for life...) But all the kids had long blond curls, whether boy/girl, and were dressed in that My-Child-Will-Grow-Up-To-Play-Golf-On-His/Her-Lunch-Breaks kind of clothing from the Gap or wherever parents find that sort of thing (personally, I think I must go blind when that sort of clothing appears before my eyes, because I have never seen it for anyone other than rich old men and their trophy wives. Maybe I shop at the wrong stores...). All the mothers had the same kind of haircut and the same kind of maternity clothing. They probably all grew up in the same preppy schools and took preppy dance lessons from the same preppy teachers. But I'm not bitter. I'm just saying...

All of the kids were playing on a raised platform at one end of the room, which was right next to the table where I was sitting with my friends. Some of the other parents were up on the platform with their kids, but I could see E from where I was sitting (and he's not 2...), so I didn't feel the need to be right there to point out the "horsies" out the window for his visual enjoyment.

Now, my child is very, very comfortable with adults (most of the time). He will initiate conversations with total strangers and is quite capable of holding up his end of the dialogue for a looooong time. He also likes babies (meaning, anyone shorter/younger than he is...so not that many people). So my darling boy was striking up convos with these trophy wives about their toddlers....

And they wouldn't talk to him.

It just about broke my heart, watching him try to get their attention and them turning away to rave one more time about the divine pedicures they got at this so-posh spa where everyone goes nowadays (now, keep in mind that I am extrapolating. But I'm still probably right.). Luckily, E didn't notice, other than the fact that he was being straight up ignored most of the time. But still. It hurt me.

I'm not sure why they wouldn't talk to him. It's not like you can't understand him when he speaks. And it's not like they couldn't hear him (believe me, that wasn't it). The only thing I could come up with is that they just weren't used to talking to people who actually speak in sentences (as opposed to their own toddlers, their very busy med student husbands, and their empty-headed friends...yes, it irritated me, can you tell?).

Anyway, for those of you with very small children: learn to talk to the older kids, if you can't already. It's not hard, I promise. I can carry on a conversation with E without even listening to what he's saying half the time, because he will talk with very little encouragement. Someday those kids will be yours. And you'll be the mom cringing in the corner as your child gets ignored.



I can't wait till E starts grade school. Can't you just imagine how hateful I'll be then?