I was having one of those frustrating days. I decided to take the day off. Got the kids ready for some quiet fun. My plan was to drop stuff off, go to the library and make a candy purchase. Maybe water balloons later. You know, that day.
Well, I let my kids paint the super-cool playhouses that the Emerson is raffling off, with the warning, "Please be careful and don't get paint on these clothes, ok? I'll be right back!" Yep, 2 minutes later. . . blue paint is swashed across my darling's favorite dress. My head falls, because I know that I am about to become, that
mom. Paintbrush back to the tray. Off comes the apron. And then I yank the dress over her head and dunk it into the completely pristine hand-washing bucket by the painting booth. Of course she was wearing shorts and a tank top underneath, but I am sure I looked like a crazy-mama.
Rush home, cancel the stops. regroup.
Okay. Whatever. The kids are fine without the other stops. And they are kind of blissfully wiped out
after the weekend's adventure. We bathe and wash and clean. (24 hours later the dress is still soaking but it's maybe gonna be ok.) I let them watch 'Lab Rats' and 'Wild Kratts' for a bit. I turn to Facebook for some veg out time.
If you are like me, you have all kinds of 'friends'. They are your family; aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, in-laws and extended. Also; people you know from school, work and play, both present and past. They all have their weird ways of expressing themselves. Sometimes the newsfeed is strange. No biggie.
But, remember. . . I am in a mood. I am looking to be entertained by a gaggle of people that I signed on for. And I see this:
It's the caption for the picture that I see of an unknown woman. Her jeans don't fit super well. She's bigger and her butt-crack is unfortunately visible. Hell, she has probably been fighting with those jeans all frickin' day long. Finally at lunch, she's sitting down and has given up the fight to make the fabrics meet.
Nope, it's not a great look but here is what I find really flip-floppin' ugly. When that mom, who I really looked up to in high school as a chick who had her act together. Classy and stylish. Smart and popular. Destined to a good life. And now as an adult seems to have it all. Gorgeous husband, many kids, her own home, she's tall-thin-pretty. When she was faced with her preteen daughters and their friends laughing at someone, she had a choice.
A: Tell the kids not to be such twerps. Because, that is a human being. Pipe down or we're outta here.
B: Take a picture of an overweight gal's behind and post it online for kicks.
But, can I tell you what's almost worse. That I sat here stewing about it and watching it develop like some weird modern anthropomorphological study. Why didn't I just say, "Hey, this kinda sucks." or "Whoa! Great job teaching the girls what's what!" I said nothing and then. . . the comments started stroking her ego. Praising how awesome she was for being such a quick thinker. How glad they were to know her. "Yum."
And we wonder how cyber bullying gets out of hand.
I don't know folks.