Mom Pants

I got called A Mom today.  Yes, I know I am a mom and absolutely love being a mom.  I just don't want that to be the first thing that pops into someone's head when they see me out in public without my kids.  You know?

Let me explain.  My tiny car overheated.  It had actually told me something like "Stop immediately!  This car is crazy dangerous hot!"  When I took my temporarily-cooled car into the dealership later to get the needed repairs, I met Josh.

Josh is a well-meaning, eager new Service Ambassador or whatever they call themselves these days.  He is at least 25 years old.  He asked me all the car questions and then he said in his talking-to-a-woman-about-cars voice "I'm really glad you brought the car in.  You made the right decision.  This is a very big deal and we want to take care of this for you.  I definitely wouldn't want MY mom out there driving her car in this condition.”

Yes he did.

After that all I heard was blah blah blaaaah blaaaah....

I felt a physical pain similar to a blow to the gut.  I believe I even grabbed my stomach with both arms.

This 25 year old had referenced his MOTHER when talking about me.  His mother.  I am 38.  To be his mother I would have been giving birth to little Josh when I was 13.

When I was finally standing fully upright I looked myself over really good to figure things out.  I was holding my tiny just-a-wallet purse, not my everything-anyone-could-possibly-need suitcase.  My hair wasn't too frazzled looking.  Then I realized... It must be the Capri pants!  The hip, youthful looking crowd never wear Capri pants.  Of course! These are obviously Mom Pants.  And it is a shame because I do like them and think they look cute, but I will no longer be in denial. They are Mom Pants. 

And it worked.  I went back to the dealership to pick up my car in my long lean jeans and my Service Ambassador did not once think of his mother....or at least that's what I told myself.