My Shoes


“Hey, I would be treating that differently if I were you,” said the tall man at the park sitting on a bench who was holding a thermal cup full of something that probably made his breath stink.

My two oldest boys were fighting. There was a water-gun on the ground that someone had left behind, and one of them picked it up. His brother told him to put it down because it didn’t belong to him. They were doing one of those brother on brother, I’m going to rip your flesh off fights that left me standing there wishing I had a gentle lipstick taser.

“BOYS!” I said, “You need to stop it right now!” I was trying to speak as loudly as I could through the pain in my neck.

“If those were my boys, I wouldn’t allow that,” barked the man sitting on the bench.

I wanted to tell him that those would never be “his” boys, because in order for that to have happened, I would have had to have been penetrated by him and I’m not into any guy who looks like he has a talking penis growing out of his neck.

My youngest minion who’s almost two, was climbing up the playground equipment and somehow got his fingers stepped on by a bigger kid, which was totally an accident, but it hurt. He was crying. I went to get him and rocked him back and forth trying as hard as I could to make it all better. Meanwhile, over at Fight Club…the two older boys were still knocking each others lights out. I felt like absolute crap, but muscled through it. 

 “You two, on the sidewalk…NOW!” I said. I was carrying my toddler who I wasn’t really supposed to be lifting.

I could hear the critical words still leaking from the douche-drip’s mouth behind me, and I just ignored him. Nothing good could have come from me responding. The only words that would possibly have flown out of my mouth would’ve started with an F and ended with a YOU. I did my best to talk the boys through it and after everyone calmed down, we decided it was time to go. My boys hugged it out and we piled into my pimp-ass minivan, ready to get back to our house. I was ready for my husband to get home. I desperately needed to lay down and take some medicine.

When we left the park that day, I restrained my middle finger and kept it in it’s place, wanting so badly to flip that guy off. He had no idea how I felt. I had recently had cervical disc replacement surgery and was in a lot of pain. I could barely physically move around, let alone chase three kids. However, I was trying. I had felt so guilty for not being my “normal self” that I didn’t want the boys to miss out on the rare nice weather. I felt they deserved a day at the park. Their schedules had been thrown off. Their normals had been changed. It was no wonder they were so on edge. I’m not saying it was okay for them to kick the crap out of each other, but come on. 

The thing is, you don’t know what a person is dealing with. For me, my neck problem is treatable. I am lucky for that. Some mothers may be battling cancer, depression, the loss of a loved one, a trauma, they may have just talked a person off a ledge; you just don’t know. Sure, some moms are lazy and don’t watch their kids and that is annoying, but there are plenty of times when people are behaving a certain way for a reason. That is why I believe that until you’ve walked in someone else’s shoes, you probably shouldn’t judge.

Besides, mine are a size five. That grouchy judgy ol’ prick would never be able to fit in my shoes.

As always, share it on one of those buttons down there if you agree and thanks for taking the time to read.