November 13th, 2015
I’m becoming increasingly convinced that when recent mothers get together with their babies for lunch or coffee, the sole purpose is to hold a contest to see who can be the most annoying. Who can talk to their kid in a condescending way the loudest. Who can tell the best “little Francis hit the coffee table and needed three stitches” / “Oh yea? Little Jimmy fell out of the fucking car and needed five stitches,” one-upwomanship stories. Good job, ladies. You’re both winning.
But I’m not going to complain. At least it’s drowning out the horrid Christmas music that Starbucks thinks they need to play to cover up this whole “red cup” fiasco that’s suddenly a world issue for some reason.
Oh yay. It’s raspberries time. Give ’em hell, lady. Your baby is too young to tell you how much she resents you, so get it out of your system now because she’ll certainly settle your tab when she’s a teen. You’re winning, by the way.