THE EQUALIZER

Yesterday was one of those "equalizing" kind of days. Let me explain. I had a meeting Monday morning with a client (we'll call her "client #2") who another client ("client #1") had warned me about. Apparently, not a real nice or happy lady. So I go into the meeting ready to kill her with kindness and understanding.

Well, what do you know, but we begin discussing kids and she says I look way too young to have a nine year old. I dare to say "well I'm 40. " She says I really don't look 40. Apologies to any of my good friends who are reading this blog, but I now have a new BEST FRIEND. I have decided that I love her. I don't care how many rude things she says about client #1. I don't care that she sabatoges everything that client #1 tries to accomplish. I don't care that she never smiles.

To all those friends who say I should be a cougar (older woman who goes after a much younger man), HA! I don't look old enough to be a cougar. Besides, being a cougar implies that you have prey lurking about you that you could hunt. The only things that seem to lurk around me are piles of laundry and unpaid bills. Actually, I prefer to think that the prey is merely hibernating. Once he has made a small fortune, fine-tuned his household handiman skills, gotten his relationship with the Lord right, tried to solve world hunger and decided that 9-year-old little boys who love all things football are the coolest things ever, then he will come out of hibernation, and the hunt will begin!

OK. Back to the compliment. At this point in my life, I take any compliment from a non-family member for all it's worth. Last summer as I was leaving a 7-11, I hurried past a man with a stringy beard, dirty clothes and no legs sitting in a wheelchair who asked if I could spare a dollar. I smiled politely, said no I couldn't help and headed to my car. He called out "well, you're beautiful anyway." I promptly opened my car door, grabbed a dollar, hurried back to the man, gave him the dollar and said "thanks so much for calling me beautiful. It's been a really long time since a man said that to me." Pathetic?

Anyway, after my esteem-boosting morning, Cole and I were hanging out in the den, and I said "Hey, Cole, look at this." I lifted my shirt just a little to reveal the weird red rash growing around my belly button. (Gross. I know. And gross to show my kid, but frankly there's no one else in this house to show weird skin disorders, interesting editorials or garage paint colors to.)

Cole, looking at my belly: Wow, mom, you're fat.
Me: Well, thanks a lot Cole.
Cole: Actually I didn't mean it rude. Really it's like wow you don't look fat but you really are fat.
Me: Again, thanks.

Where's my new best friend when I need her?