Oh No, She Didn't

Dear Fellow Patron of Moe Monday,

We have seen each other for a lot of Mondays in the past 3 years. I can understand how you would feel like we kind of know each other. I can also see how you would think that you have watched my child grow up. However, I can assure you, we do not know each other. You know nothing about us. Nothing. I don’t even think you know my daughter’s name and I intend to keep it that way because I think you’re a little cuckoo.

Tonight, when you walked past our table and stopped to chitchat about my precious girl, we were prepared to humor you as we always do. Except then you said something that just stunned me into a silent stupor. You said “She’s gotten so big and she’s really slimmed down. I almost didn’t recognize her.” Now, I can tell by the many, many times you have stopped to talk to us, that you are not—shall we say? From around here. So let me tell you a little something about being Southern since you have made yourself a transplant in my beloved South. Down here, we call that a backhanded compliment. And down here, we call the people who serve those backhanded compliments—well, we bless their hearts a lot to soften the blow of the terribly indecent  names we call those people .You should know that about us since you have allowed yourself to be lured here by the siren song of our manic depressive Mother Nature.

Now that it has been a few hours since our encounter, you would think I’ve thought of the things I wish I had said to you. But honestly, the only thing I can think is ‘fuck you.’ The loudest and heartiest of ‘fuck you’s.’ Horribly inappropriate, I know. If you ever say that shit in front of my kid again, I guarantee you I won’t be so composed. I may be so indignant that I forget to bless your heart before I drop the F bomb along with some other choice words that do not befit a proper lady. Fair warning, B.

Truly,

Mama