“You know… my mother never bought that stuff. And neither did I.”
“Oh? {yay! This conversation! I already see where this train’s goin’}”
“Yeah… you know that you can actually make your own. It’s really simple. You just…”
“Yeah. I made all the food on my own with my second. And right now, well, right now, I’m buying it {Why am I explaining myself? Is it hot in here?}.”
“Well, then. If you’ve made it before, then you know just how simple it can be. I always felt so good knowing exactly what my children were getting, you know.”
“Yep. That’s why I’m buying organic. It at least makes me feel like I’m less worthless. Like I’m not completely ruining my children. {sarcastic. smiling. sort of.}”
“Yeah. We didn’t have all that organic stuff when I had my kids.”
And… silence.
“Now how old is that one there?”
“He’s about 9 months.”
“Oh he can’t be 9 months! Why he’s not even out of his infant seat?! At least they make them more comfortable nowadays.”
“Yeah. He likes his seat {he had better. he gets dragged around everywhere in it}. And he isn’t huge for his age. Must be the store-bought baby food {wink wink}. Or the fact that he was about the size of my arm when he was born {wait for it…}.”
And… silence again.
“Was he early?”
“Yeah. 8 weeks {10 bucks she asks how much he weighed}”
“How much did he weigh?” {I win the fake 10 dollas!}
“3 pounds.”
“Oh my. Babies that size never made it when I had kids. They had so many problems.”
“Yep. We’re pretty blessed. {please just stop talking. This is going nowhere good.}”
“I’d call that luck.”
“Tomato. Tamato. {Annnnd… this convo is done.}”
You know, the thing about me is, I tend to think I am a pretty accepting, polite, congenial gal. I’d definitely call those traits some of my strengths. I like people. I love chatting it up. I am always up for hearing new stories. And fostering relationships {yes, I’m giving myself props. It’s what we baby food buying people do}.
Until I’m not.
Gosh darn it. When I’m not, well, I can get pretty damn chippy. And I just can’t help myself. I mean, what response was Checker Grandma {I intend no ill-will toward grandmas. I only use this title because she was about 84 and told me she had her own children} expecting? I was actually in the process of purchasing baby food. From the store. Where she works. And where they sell groceries. In fact, that is the only thing I was buying. Ten packages of baby food. And my store-bought baby food eating baby was in his infant seat… the one that it is apparently odd to still carry him in. And there was no way I was divulging that he didn’t sit up. And that was the reason he still travels in his seat. I didn’t need to have that convo, too. Because her kids probably slid out at 12 pounds, sat up, and cranked their own food in the mill.
I can’t imagine the convo she was about to have with the guy behind me buying a 1.75 of Svedka, and a box of condoms at 9 in the a.m. {No. Not joking. This is my life.} I imagine that in her day, no one even used condoms. Or drank Vodka that wasn’t made in a bathtub.
So, to Checker Grandma, you made a lasting impression. I think of you daily. Every time I tear back the plastic seal. And I even think that the food must still taste pretty good, even when served with a side of judgment. At least, it seems that my oddly tiny baby who is just lucky to not have a whole slew of problems finds it absolutely delightful. Heck, he’s even been happy when I’ve purchased non-organic food like you had in your day. Who could even fathom?
It’s okay, Checker Grandma, motherhood has thickened my skin to the judgments. The unsolicited advice. And the comments about my tiny babies {and seriously, this one is bigger than the others at this stage. But I wasn’t sharing that either}. And backhanded compliments. Because I’m actually living this mother of three under five show right now. And though someday, I’ll have a “back in my day”, for now, we’re eating store food and trucking around in car seats like it’s our job.
You might also like
