Spenser and I went on a walk today with my super hot friend, Matthew (that’s his real name. I didn’t think he’d object to me using his real name since I’m mostly just talking about how hot he is. And he’s one of my oldest, dearest friends, so don’t think I’m just using him for his hotness.)

I know I talk a lot about mom solo pride and how much I love my life and how I don’t need a man… but there’s something really superficially rewarding about walking down a busy street with a very handsome man.  Does it make me feel more beautiful? More confidant? Maybe. Whatever. I’m human.

We stopped off into the store that doesn’t like us, so that Spenser could play with the toys while Matthew and I talked (and then we’d leave without buying anything, as usual.)

To my surprise, one of the sales women greeted us with a smile, “Well hi there! Is this Spenser’s daddy?”

I didn’t even know she knew his name.

“I never see his daddy,” the sales woman continued, “I’ve always wondered who his daddy was.”

I was really pleased that she didn’t say husband… that drives me crazy. It’s so presumptuous.

“Oh no,” I smiled at the sales woman, “This is my friend, Matthew. He’s not Spenser’s dad.”

“Oh,” she seemed disappointed, but then gave Matthew a flirty, squinty eyed look.

“I’m a single mom,” I said, much too loudly.

I like announcing I’m a single mom. I’m proud of it.  I’d love to say “I’m a Mom Solo,” but I don’t think that phrase has caught on yet.