
By Jill Robins for Babble.com.
“Are you their grandmother?”
That just happened. Someone asked me the question.
It didn’t come as a complete surprise. I decided to have kids a little later in life than the average mum, so I knew there would probably come a day when I’d get mistaken for their grandma. I’d always imagined my reaction – ideally, a smack across the face, realistically, a really dirty look. But when it finally happened, I was amazed at how little I cared.
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This is how it all went down:
I was at Starbucks. The 20-something in line behind me noticed my two 4-year-olds, who were (to their credit, and my own) in that 15 minute window of the day when shirts were clean and boogers were absent. I had just finished a three-mile run and had a ton of things listed on my Saturday errands post-it. (Yes, I write my to-do list on a post-it. I’m old, remember?)
“Aren’t they just the cutest?” she gushed.
I didn’t say anything because no response is really required when someone randomly comments on the cuteness of your kids. They’re only seeing a glimpse. I see the whole, dirty, sticky, screaming thing. But while I was silent, my mummy mind was going a million miles an hour.
