It’s been ages since I took the kids out to Chic Fil A. It was hot. We were hungry. What more can I say? The kids were half way through their lunches when they asked to go play. “Ok, have fun.” I called after them. It wasn’t long after before Logan came back pouting. A baby had smacked him and didn’t say sorry. I reminded him this was just a baby. He should tell the baby it hurt and not to do it again. Logan took my advice and skipped his way back to the playroom.
5 minutes later, Kylie came to the table. “Those girls in there, they don’t want to be my friends because they only want to be friends with each other!” She cried. I peered through the glass and there they were sneering back at me. “Well, those girls are bitches.” is what I wanted to tell her. Their moms seemed pretty bitchy too. Instead, I told my daughter the girls might be shy or having a bad day. We don’t know why they’re mean but I do know if they don’t want to be friends with you, it was their loss. I was pretty smug after that solid good mommy response.
The kids both returned to our booth this time. “Sissy hurt my ears!” “I was yelling because that mean boy was chasing me and I wanted to scare him back.” “But you hurted my ears!” ” I didn’t mean to! I was yelling at the boy!” “Alright! Grab your shoes, we’re leaving.” I said. Both kids looked pretty sullen as they made their way back to the car. I could have kicked myself for not insisting we do lunch at home.
On the drive home, Kylie kept replaying the scenario over and over until finally I told her mommy knew several girls that didn’t want to be friends with her either. “Well, how did you be friends with them, Mom?” She was curious. The truth was, I hadn’t. Sure, some of them became friends with me in college. We had been assigned classes together and were forced to partner up for group projects. Over the years, some of them had dated friends of mine. Some of them worked for affiliate companies and some of them only sought me out because they were pregnant and I was the only other mom they knew.
The point was we are not going to be friends with everyone we meet though rarely was it ever personal. Some of the girls that didn’t play with me had dance class together and simply knew each other better. The boys that had chased me all over the playground were just being boys. They became my good friends around 4th and 5th grade. I had overheard the bitchy looking moms from Chic Fil A talking about the church they both went to. Their kids did everything together. We didn’t know them and they didn’t know us. Sure, they could have been nicer but most likely, they were unaware that their kids were sneering at me through the glass. One of them had another party to plan.
“It doesn’t matter.” I told Kylie. “If they were really mean all the time, would you want to be their friend?” “Well, maybe they need a good friend.” She replied and maybe she was right.