I’m Doing Alright

[Note: Something from the unpublished archives. I'm not sure when I wrote this but I'm guessing it was about a year ago because I was playing with a Shrek toy and Shrek the Third came out last May.]

“You aren’t much older than yur kids are yah?”

I looked up so see who said it and my eyes settled on the lumpy figure of an older man. He was sitting by the window near the drink fountain. The way he slurred his words and the splash of mustard down the front of his shirt made me think he wasn’t exactly sober. The TV show I’d watched about a serial killer that rode the railroad came to mind. We were near a railroad. I sized him up and decided he was most likely harmless.

“I’ll let you think it if you want.” I told him and smiled. We went to order our meals.

The memories of my days as the youngest mom on the playground came back to me. Moms my age were at work. The older moms (my age now) would quote childcare books and recite their parenting philosophies while I played with my kids. I always wanted to join them, but they would make me feel bad because I didn’t know to mix juice with water, or I refused to sit my kids in front of videos designed to increase their IQ. Dora and Bob were good enough for me. I had returned all the parenting books I was given, except the medical reference, and bought Dr. Seuss. At first I felt like a failure. For quite a while I was sure my kids would be totally screwed up. Then I became silently arrogant. I had thoughts like - Yeah, my kids aren’t fat, I don’t have to mix their juice with water. If my kids were as dim witted as that one, I’d be worrying about increasing their IQ as well. My kids are fine just the way they are. I started going to the playground in the evening when the fun moms and dads were there. The ones that laughed instead of shook their heads when I tripped while pushing the merry-go-round and went tumbling across the mulch.

I made myself stop thinking about that. That train of thought was not worth riding. Just in case the serial killer thing had some merit, I made sure we sat on the other side of the room. He left shortly after that but I didn’t see him leave.

I was too busy shooting trivia cards out of the head of a Shrek figurine. I was wiping ketchup off the face of my youngest. I was giving my daughter the mom face because she was slurping her drink on purpose, and I was resisting the urge to slurp mine back.

That drunk serial killer might not think I’m much older than my kids, but I’m doing alright I thought as I wiped the drip of ketchup off the front of my shirt. I’m doing alright.

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