what really gets my goat

here's a little fact for you: i have an ego. yes, it's true. i admit that i smirk when people say "nordstroms" or "barnes & nobles" or use words that really have no meaning at all like "nice" or "sweet" (for example: sweet husband, that makes me cringe). i think, "how silly they sound." and then i think, "i would never say something like that."

here's the saddest part about that: i hate people who have egos. i hate it when people are superior. in fact, nothing grates on my nerves more than ego. and i happen to, every tuesday, be surrounded by such enormous egos i should be dead by now. from brain hemorrhaging. because i swear, when they talk, i can feel my blood oozing in to my brain. it makes sloshing noises as i walk away.

that's a whole other blog entry (really, it is, and it shall be told because seriously? the stories!). the superiority i'm going to rant about today is parental superiority.

really quickly (sort of a refresher for those of you who may be new to the blog). ava's my daughter. admittedly, she's my only daughter and all of this stupid parental superiority is coming from parents who have more than one child (usually, sometimes i can't tell), but she is my daughter. i do spend 11 hours of my day with her. and 2 extra hours in the house cleaning up her mess while she naps. so i'd say i might be considered an ava expert, am i right?

so what's with the people who have to tell me about her? for example, the old woman at the grocery store. ava was mad at me because we were not taking the shopping cart with the enormous car attached. for several reasons, (1) it's big and awkward, (2) it's hard to push (really hard to steer), and (3) because i didn't want to. she's doing this half-whine half-heartedly slapping the handlebar of the cart thing where she's mad but it's fake and she'll get over it. and she does. because some grandmotherly-type woman is standing nearby and ava thinks, 'hey, maybe she'll tell me i'm cute.'

this woman eyeballs me (and i mean really eyeballs me) and says, "she's tired."

but it's not, "excuse me, but i'm a mother and a grandmother and your daughter seems kind of cranky so i was wondering if maybe she's a little tired? (don't worry, dear, we've all been there, being a mom is the greatest thing you'll ever do, but it's also very hard)"

no. that would have been nice. then we would have had a nice moment. then we would have smiled and i would have walked away with my head a little higher and ava's half-hearted temper tantrum falling on my deaf super-mommy ears.

no. she says, "she's tired." as in, you look like a terrible mother who doesn't know anything and didn't read any of the books and i'm a mother and a grandmother and currently your child is dying from the awful job you're doing.

so i smiled politely and said, "well, maybe." because for the record? ava was not tired. the child doesn't nap until early afternoon and this was early morning (like 9).

"no," says extra hostile granny. "she's tired. look, she can barely keep her eyes open."

i just walked away. but i wish i'd chewed her out. i don't care if you took in twelve teenage ted bundy's and turned them in to ward cleaver and they all come visit every sunday with a girl and a boy each and maybe even a dog and a pot roast. DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. because really? WHO ARE YOU? i am the child's mother and yeah, she didn't come with a text book, but i think i'm doing a pretty good job. SO BACK OFF.

in fact, i really wish i'd chewed her out. i really hope she's at the grocery store on monday morning.

let's hear your pet peeves.