I understand a lot of things. I understand the desire to stand up against injustice. I get the passion behind strong opinions on various topics, even those I might not care about. I appreciate individuals who express their beliefs respectfully. I also recognize that some people can be overly sensitive about shared spaces, particularly when it comes to bathrooms. And yes, I completely understand the joy of unwinding with friends over some chips and margaritas at a local restaurant on a Thursday night.
What I don’t understand, however, is adult rudeness. Intolerance. Just plain thoughtlessness. And you, my dear, embodied all of that.
It’s a pity you chose me to confront. You were waiting for me at the sinks, ready to unleash your judgment. If you’d known I had a reservoir of suppressed frustration just waiting for a trigger, perhaps you would have reconsidered. But alas, you didn’t.
Your disdainful expression is one I hope you can control. If that’s your default state, you’ve got far more significant issues to tackle than sharing a sink with me and my son, who, by the way, happens to be a boy in the GIRL’S bathroom (GASP!). What a dilemma! I can think of several ways to handle such a situation, but that’s just me. I prefer to think before I act.
Sure, it’s easy to let emotions take over, especially with my TMJ acting up from grinding my teeth. But if I let my impulses dictate my reactions, I could end up hurting someone — and I certainly don’t want my kids to see their mother through a glass window during a visit. They need me, and I don’t plan on trading my sanity for hand sanitizer.
You felt personally wronged. Offended. Disrespected by me and my (WHAT IS HE, 11 YEARS OLD?) 7-year-old son, who simply needed to pee in our private stall. What a little monster! Look at him standing there with his innocent, wide eyes, searching for reassurance from his mother. “Am I okay, Mommy?”
Reflecting on this, I must admit I’m grateful the encounter happened. Why? Because teaching moments are my specialty. So here’s my promise: based on your unsolicited bathroom intervention, I will confidently continue to support my child, no matter what. I’ll protect him from intolerant individuals like you while reminding him to wash his hands properly, all the while equipping him to handle life’s unexpected challenges with a degree of grace.
“Mommy got mad and said a really bad word,” he told me afterward. Technically, it was more than one, but the key takeaway is that I think my kid views me as a total badass now, and that makes me feel pretty good. Pass the chips!
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