So, you know that we go to Trader Joe’s a lot and, well, we are kind of Royalty there… so, I guess I come to expect that everywhere. You know, special treatment, asking our names, saying that Spenser is the cutest etc.
There’s a kids’ store I’ve discovered that Spenser loves to play in. They have samples of their toys set up all over, along with the easy access balls and cars that kids can grab. I don’t buy anything because it’s really expensive and I don’t really need anything. The ladies who work there don’t fuss over us. No, actually, I think they don’t like us.
We go there a lot. Maybe too much. (As you know, I avoid parks.)
Spenser did have a melt down in there, ONCE; because he didn’t want to wear his shoes and I insisted. He also presses all the buttons that make music (specifically a Justin Beaver beaver that sings “baby baby” and some kind of Cee Lo singing animal that sings “forget you”) and throws stuff in toy shopping carts that he pushes around. They have clothes there too.
After many visits of the sales women barely mumbling “hello,” without even looking at me, I realized I needed to spend some money. I bought a set of popsicle molds and a shirt that was on sale for $9 from $36.
At the register, the sales woman seemed a little friendlier. She looked about 27. She was dressed in clothes so cool, I can’t really even describe them. She was pretty and aloof.
“Is he your only child?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. People LOVE to ask that.
“I have one too,” she said. “Are you going to have another one?” She asked. People LOVE that question too. It makes me feel a few things: 1. Flattered that they think I’m so young that I could just casually be deciding if I want another. 2. Amused that they probably think I can just roll over and say to my husband, “I’m ovulating. Let’s have some fun and make a baby.” 3. Heartsick, because I DO want another, so I usually get into a spin and start asking myself, could I have another?
“Maybe,” I told her. “You?”
She folded my new sale shirt and put it in a bag. “I don’t know,” she said. “It would be terrible if you loved the second one more than the first.”
She handed me my purchase.
What?
That was kind of the strangest comment ever? How could you imagine loving a child who didn’t exist more than the one who exists? Or was she commenting on Spenser, like she thought he wasn’t so great that I could love a hypothetical baby more…?
Crazy.
So, we went to the park today.
MOM SOLO 