While I was waiting for the metro to go work this morning, a woman and her daughter maybe 3 years old, sat next to me. So far so good. I was concentrated mastering the art of closing those mini umbrellas and the fuck happens with that little piece of fabric that comes with it… when suddenly I got pulled away by the events next to me.
Like I told you before, they sit next to me and first thing to do it’s the photo shoot. Off the jacket to show the nice white sweater, with a pink animal, mommy got you. Sit still and click. This time a nice smile, she says, click. Like there’s so many reasons to smile while you’re stuck underground waiting to stand for half an hour like sardines, surfing the tunnels of Montreal. Well, luckily the little girl doesn’t know that kind of fun yet. So now she has a picture with a smile, but wait, she wants another one with a less fake smile. Ok girl, obviously she’s not Tyra Banks!
After all this she sits editing and posting the photos, I guess. Meanwhile the little girl is fighting with her sweater, arms in the air…I’m hot, I’m hot, mom I’m hot. This goes for about 2 minutes before some wise words are spoken, suddenly mommy turns into Yoda and says: mommy has her sweater on, it’s winter and everybody has their sweater on – our eyes crossed. Wait a minute lady, don’t use me as an excuse, flash news I’m hot too, I just don’t feel like carrying my mountain of a coat on my arms, I would go topless if I could.
So we’re back to photo session nr 2, the poor girl must be sweating bullets by now, but keeps her ‘mommy I’m happy’ smile. The problem this time is she doesn’t get still. She moved an inch and mommy can’t get a good picture of her precious so she used the 1st rule of parenting ‘if they act like kids let’s threaten them to go back home’. Finally the metro arrived and I went back to my life.
I’m not judging – who am I kidding, of course I am – but I shouldn’t, afterwards I only watched this family for 8 minutes, maybe she was on a day off of parenting…who knows!? And I’m pretty sure she never left her child get burned or fall off the couch… whatever.
I’m a little anxious when the time comes, when Mr. T will start to understand more and talk, how we will react and respond to his behaviors. But what do I know… I’m raising a feral kid, happy and cheerful but a savage!