Hump Day Diddy Dumbs - When in doubt…comfort her!
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I ran into a friend of mine during a parent-meeting in one of our schools this morning -- well, more like...plopped down right next to her thinking, "Thank Gawd...a friendly face!" -- and, since both our youngest children are in school this year and we have other children attending the same grade, she was quick with a smile and very sincerely asked:
"So, how are you?"
[blank stare]
"You okay?"
I pursed my lips, nodded my head and pretended that I had just remembered to look for something...anything...and started digging deep into my purse.
Now, I've known this woman for quite a few years (read: knows from nucking futs) so, she smiled and continued her conversation with the woman on her right.
And you're probably wondering right about now -- as I was then -- maybe I'm nuttier than you thought. Perhaps I've developed some sort of social disorder. That all the years of breeding children, cleaning poo, dishing out microwaveable dinners and breathing in tons of sheet rock dust and doggie dander, have finally taken their toll.
I can't even answer a simple question, without disecting each word and weighing each syllable?
A minute or two later, another mother walked in -- one who I know only semi-well -- sees me and smiles.
Me?
IÂ smiled back...and began to wave...frantically...like, people were expecting me to shout, "FIRE!" or "Bingo!" or, something.
She sat down to my left and I began to chatter like a frickin' chipmunk hopped-up on one too many nuts!
"So, how was your summer...what do you do...where did you go...oh, so he plays football...mine play soccer...oh, yours plays soccer, too...WOW...and football...WOW...your schedule must be CRAZY...do you feel it's CRAZY?"
No.
But, clearly, she thought I was!
Poor thing just sat there and listened -- smile never waning for fear of...well...nucking futs -- and quite frankly, she wasn't much of a talker.
The meeting was about to begin so I, you know, was still talking, when the mom to my right -- the friend who I've been ignorning -- looked over her shoulder at me and skooched closer:
"Don't mind me, I'm just gonna move closer to Liz."
She then took her hand, gave my elbow a little pat-rub and I stopped talking...frickin' stunned into silence...by the gesture.
Funny.
Here I was, ignoring the shit out of the poor woman, and she still felt the need to pass along a warm fuzzy.
Then, it hit me -- no, not the militant p.t.o. representative in charge of...something or another -- my friend knows how difficult these passed few weeks have been and, more importantly, how crazy is it that we should be thrown together and pretend as if we were happier than flies on a pile of horse shit? That our lives as mommies -- and soon-to-be class parents -- are now suddenly full and complete.  I mean, what else is there to complain about? To worry about? I mean, our lives are perfect - hell, our jobs were done, right?
[blank stare]
That's okay -- you don't have to answer that -- I know; no one likes a kill-joy.
But, sometimes, it's nice to have someone understand -- especially when you...yourself...don't know exactly how to put it into words -- that there is perhaps a lot more going on behind the awkward smile and pursed lips.
I should have never doubted my friend.
So, hopefully, the next time I run into someone -- who seems a frazzled and perhaps even a bit sharp around the edges -- rather than doubt myself, I'll be able to reciprocate and comfort her, instead.
And remember to NOT ask any questions...'kay?
[blank stare]
DAYUM!