As many of you know, yesterday was Anna’s first day at daycare. For the past 6+ months, my father-in-law has been watching her on Mondays and Tuesdays, and my sister watches her on Thursdays – I work from home on Wed/Fri. Got that? It’s been so nice not having to send her to a germ-infested place, but I knew that setup wasn’t permanent, so I bit the bullet and finally enrolled her.
When I went to pick her up yesterday, things were, shall we say, interesting. As soon as I walked in the door, I was met with the following words…
“Yo’ baby is big!”
Me: “Huh?” (looking around to see from where this odd voice was coming)
I was greeted with this:
***WARNING PURE NASTINESS AHEAD***
Scared yet? Confused? Yeah, me too.
Some woman, two steps from Intervention material, was sitting on the floor and shelling out random tidbits about how unusually large my child was. I’m not one of *those* mothers who takes offense at comments like this – I actually take it as a compliment. I know she’s healthy – I get validation from her Pediatrician who has had many years of schooling to tell me this. Plus, her pedi has had appropriate dental care and is still in possession of all of her teeth. This lady was not. Even from across the room, I could tell this lady had a mouth that would do any meth addict proud. Why she was there, I do not know, but she did go on to tell me at least 5 more times that my daughter was unusually large.
So my daughter is a heifer, what’s it to ya, mush mouth?
On a side note, her teacher kept calling her Hannah and even wrote that name on a bin for her. I’m still a little undecided about this place. We shall see how this pans out.
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