Whelp! I am officially the scary momma on the block.
Driving down the street and a probably 12 year old girl saw me. She proceeded in front of her friends to stand in the middle of the road and make me wait while she not only danced, but twerked while I waited for her to move so I could drive by. This went on for a good minute until I put the car in park and undid my seat belt, at which point she strutted back to the sidewalk. As I passed she lifted her arms and crowed her triumph.
“Okay, Princess,” I said to myself, “if that’s how you want to play it.” I finished my delivery a few streets over and came home.
Poking my head in I told My husband if he heard screaming and sirens to come get me, because I might get in a fight with some kid’s mom down the street. He advised me to not tell other people how to parent. I explained that I only intended to tell the girl’s parents so that they would be aware of her behavior and because some younger drivers in the neighborhood speed down our street and would’ve hit her before they saw her. He let me go with a disapproving smh.
Walking down towards the large group of children, one was a few houses closer and asked me if I was looking for my kids.
“No,” I replied. “I know where mine are. I’m looking for somebody’s mama.”
“Oh,” the girl replied dubiously. Hopping on her bike she peddled toward the mass of children, yelling someone’s name.
It seemed she was witness to the show earlier and was sounding the alarm to the young lady in question. As I was passing two teenage girls in their driveway, I asked if they knew the children. They did not. I explained why I was going to find this girl’s parents and asked them if I was way off base. They told me no, but looking back, could you really answer yes in that situation?
As I looked back down the street, the group had dispersed, with my Dancing Queen already rounding the corner on her bike.
Guess she didn’t live on my street.
Guess I’m scarier as a mom that I thought.
This makes being over thirty a little less awful, I think.