You Got Off Lucky, Little Girl

Dear Tween at Hobby Lobby,

I am not sure you will remember me, but I am pretty sure I will remember you for a long time to come. My son and I were behind you in line to check out. I was the one holding a couple feathers, some sparkly bits and the hand of the world's cutest 2 year old blond boy with big blue eyes and a huge heart. You weren't holding anything, as I am sure the physical exertion of holding the stick-on wall decor for your bedroom would be just too much for a princess like you to withstand, but what you did carry was the attitude of superiority that can only be matched by other tweens and possibly narcissistic homicidal maniacs.

Jack and I were having a pleasant day running errands. We were about to meet Grandma and Grandpa for lunch at On the Border and you were about to crawl back down the River Styx to Hades where you belong (or so I can only assume). You had a simple option at the moment of our brief encounter. You could have kept your trap shut (which I would advise in the future, but we'll get to that in a minute), and we all could go on with our lives and never think about each other again. But, you chose not to. You chose to open that pit of stupidity (some would call a mouth) and now I am still tracking on your existence in MY WORLD. Instead of disappearing as quickly as you came into my life, you said the magic words that are making you linger still today. You said, "Mom, that kid talks like a retard." And, you meant my kid.

For that statement, I say shame on you. For that statement, I say even more emphatically... shame on your mother. Shame on her for smiling and nodding and not jumping down your ignorant throat. So, since your mom is too busy holding your "I Want My Room To Look Like A Brothel" decorations, I will go ahead and do it.

1. That word is despicable and so are you and your mother for using it. I am not a huge champion of political correctness, and I've been known to refer to women as chicks now and then, but I am a huge proponent of the principal of common courtesy. It's a concept that this mother daughter duo is clearly missing. The word you used has such a negative and hurtful connotation for the disabled people that you were referring to that you should feel about half an inch tall for using it. But, you managed to stand straight and tall because no one bothers to tell you that using that word doesn't reflect on Jack nearly as badly as it does on you. I would hope that you have enough sense to not use the N word for African Americans or the F word for homosexuals. Use that same censor for this word, as it has no business in today's vocabulary. Now, I realize that you clearly have a teeny tiny little virtually nonexistent brain, and therefore other words might be just too hard for you to think of.... but that's when Mommy Hooker ought to jump in and teach you some options that will add a hint of respect for the rest of the human race, and hopefully make you look a little less stupid next time. Well, the Snooki look hair style counteracts that attempt at intelligence, but we can try.

2. Consider this a warning for you and yours.... in the future, don't utter a word about me and mine. My Jack may speak with an unexplainable German accent, but disabled he is not. He is above average in his cognitive functions, which is clearly more than I can say for you. And moreover, my boy is 2. I can explain his speech issues because he is a toddler. Sadly, though your behavior may say otherwise, your mom can't use that excuse.

I realize now that I should have said all of this to your face, because then it wouldn't be circling in my brain still two days later. But, I didn't. I gave you an out since you are young. I locked eyes with you and your mother both to make sure you both knew that I heard what you said, and I am quite sure that the scowl on my face could have turned you both to stone. Medusa has nothing on my stare. I saw the color drain from your faces right before the pink tinge of embarrassment flushed up your cheeks. And I waited. I squinted my eyes in an unspoken dare for you to say another syllable... and in your one moment of intelligence, you chose not to. Smart move. But, still. I chose not to start anything and in doing so, I let you leave that store without a lesson being learned that you clearly need to know. What you said is not ok. The way you act is not ok. And, if we are going to guess who is going to come out successful in the future between my boy and you, I think smart money is not going to be on you.

Sincerely,

Lynn