Re: Some one missed their nap!
by
MessyONE
02/15/2008, 4:59 PM #
It's called "earning a living", dear. Perhaps while being sequestered in your suburban monster home, driving the three quarter ton truck that you required to haul around your nine pound baby, on the streets with no sidewalks (because after all, if someone doesn't have a car they don't belong there), you've forgotten that.
The vast majority of women with children who have "jobs" (that seems to be a dirty word for you, I won't use it again, I promise) have them not because they're bored, but because if they don't work they'll be breast-feeding all right, on the street. I know it's an alien concept, dear, but bear with me.
I realise that life can be so very difficult when, all around you, you see evidence that other people don't live up to your fantasy of what perfect motherhood means. How trying it must be to see all of those women "working" (sorry again) when you're out and about shopping and lunching with the other yummy mummies when they should be at home with the shark-like grip of a four-year-old on their boobs.
It must drive you to distraction to see a female sales clerk with a wedding band carrying your Armanis to the fitting room for you and knowing from the support garments she's clearly wearing that she is torturing her child in a dark basement somewhere. Why, you must have such a difficult time just handing them your Platinum Card without saying anything.
How do you go on?
How very exhausting it must be to swan around town and have no one recognise your extra-special perfection. All you want to do is share your secret to a perfect life and Nobel winning baby with the poor souls! No wonder you feel the need to point it out to other women, particularly those you will never see socially.
It's so unfair that they give you filthy looks and tell you to piss off, when all you wanted to do was let them know that it's worthwhile to sacrifice their livelihoods, homes and health insurance, just to make you feel better.
It's all right though. When you see the tears in young women's eyes as they try to manage a stroller and a shopping cart and escape from you at the same time in the grocery store parking lot, you must feel so vindicated.
Why, bless your heart!
(I hereby banish you to the Rock of Presumptuous Ninnies, there to be ignored for eternity.)