Like Mary, there's just something about parenting . . . it just brings out the judgment, and not in that festive Judge Judy sort of way.
Part of me gets it. Parenting is often a terrifying thing, such an overwhelming responsibility if you over-think it, that the temptation is there to act as if there are ALL CAPS BLACK AND WHITE ANSWERS TO IT ALL. (Hence, those braggy Facebook updates about how someone's epidural-free pesticide-free fun-free child is better than yours.) Trust me, I want to believe . . .
. . . unlike the "X-Files", though, my experience is that there is a lot of grey area. I should note given the current reading pop culture that this "grey area" is not to be confused with Christian Grey, though both frequently make me want to beat my head against the wall (and not in a kinky way).
Case in point - my Friday excursion to Target, that monument to American excess (*foreshadowing*). Master P & I do our usual spin through the Baby section, quickly grabbing the necessities before he becomes bored with shopping (usual start-to-whining time = +/- 5 minutes).
I proceed to the checkout with the shortest line and encounter what seems like a kindly, middle aged female cashier, whose smile began to wither as she spies the toddler snacks on the conveyor belt.
She visibly recoils as she sniffs in the direction of Master P's squeezable organic veggie packets, "What a shame - all this packaging material that isn't recyclable." She raises a brow and pauses to give me a significant glance.
"Holy (stuff), only in Austin," I think to myself, "Here I am just trying to buy my kid nutritious snacks. What is it with me, cashiers, and the parenting judgment?"
|Foodie in the making or eco terrorist?|
Unlike that previous incident, though, I do not act as if nothing has happened. Oh, no.
Instead I summon my sweetest, I-was-in-the-Junior-League-dammit smile and chirp, "Oh, I completely agree (snark-free sidebar: and I do - yay recycling!). The thing is, we feel it's *so* important that he eat organic whenever possible, and this is how he'll eat his veggies at the moment. I'm all ears on how I can get him to eat them another way?"
Silence. Our eco-hero the cashier sighs and, with a vague air of defeat, continues scanning our items.
Boom. (Recycled) paper covers rock. I'll see your Smug Eco and raise you a Smug Foodie.
Of course, this isn't a big deal in the grand scheme, and you can find insults everywhere if you're looking for them, blah blah blah. Miss Planet Earth had a point, and I'm sure she meant no harm.
That being said, it sure is fun to stun the Smug into a few moments of blessed silence, isn't it?