When I dropped Lily off at school this morning, her teacher asked how my weekend was. "It was alright," I said. "It was okay." Did she really want to hear how boring and miserable my weekends usually are? Did she want to hear about how this weekend had the added bonus of my hard drive exploding? (Figuratively.) Probably not.
Then she asked if she had seen me at the gym. When people say things like that to me, most of the time my inner smartass just reacts. Without consulting with my inner grown-up counselor. "HahaNO!" I retorted. I think the other mother standing next to me chuckled, a knowing kind of chuckle.
Other thoughts that immediately followed (and were quickly told to shut the F up by my inner grown-up counselor) were..
.. does it look like I go to the gym?
.. does it look like I have time to go to the gym?
.. you HAVE met my child, right?
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