Dear Kombucha Drinking Mom at The Park
I look at you sitting over there with your two little girls and I can't help but notice the differences between us.
There's your two girls, wearing linen dresses, drinking kombucha, and snacking on hummus, raw peppers, and homemade pickles.
Then I turn my eyes over to my three girls, wearing mismatched dirt-stained clothes, covered in Goldfish cracker crumbs, my youngest only wearing one shoe -- in the bark. And it doesn't take long before I start to feel a little inferior next to your gloriousness. Do we have anything in common? I mean, we’re both parents, right? Don't we both put on our yoga pants one leg at a time? Well, except you probably ACTUALLY do yoga in them. And I technically have to sit down and put both legs in at the same time so I don’t throw my back out.
Sigh. I bet we're not as alike as I'd hoped...
* I bet your email ends in .org.
* I bet you pedal a bike to get the microwave working. Who am I kidding? You don’t own a microwave. You heat up your leftover tofu using pots and pans like a winner. Damn you, Kombucha lady.
* Your face looks so pretty and natural. You probably aren’t even wearing makeup. I bet it’s that stupid kombucha.
* Your girls voluntarily came over and gave you kisses. Did you pay them? Promise them candy? Oh that’s right, no candy. An organic orange?
* I bet your roof is made of solar panels.
* I bet you sleep on a mattress made of hemp.
* How are your girls playing next to mine and yet they’re not getting dirty? And their dresses aren’t wrinkled! Is it the kombucha??
Okay, lady. I’m impressed. Even as we sit here, you’re enveloped in a good book whilst I feel great success at passing level 132 of Candy Crush. You are clean, well-educated, healthy, and a good mom. But so am I, because...
* My email ends in .com like a normal person.
* I do own a microwave and, in fact, cook a good portion of our meals in it. So there.
* My face also looks pretty and natural. It took me an hour and $200 in products to get it looking that way, but, hey, same result, right?
* My kids also came and gave me kisses at the park...and, yes, they left with a few jolly ranchers in their pockets.
* My roof is made of composite shingles.
* My mattress is made of...well, whatever normal mattresses are made of.
* And my girls are playing happily right now with every inch of their body and clothes covered in dirt. AND I may not even make the time to give them a full shower tonight. Wet wipes it is!
We’re both good moms. We both love our kids. And we both took the time to take them to the park today. So the only real difference between us is the Kombucha.
And there’s no way in hell I’m drinking that.