The first installment in the Moms Club series. This based on an actual conversation I had with other people about something completely different. To protect the ridiculous, actual names and identifying details have been changed. That being says, here goes…
Hi. I’m Kap. No, it’s not short for anything. My parents have a weird sense of humor. I’m in my 30s, a Mom and addicted to coffee. I love all things social media, but always have a pen and notepad on me. Sometimes, my thoughts are only for me. I’m here to share my stories about navigating the interesting waters of dealing with other moms.
Anyone who knows me will tell you I am absolutely NUTS about mozzarella sticks. Seriously, I judge restaurants by how good their cheese sticks are. Everyone has their thing, I guess. If I know I will be out for a while, I might even heat up a few sticks to take with me. My daughter loves cheese sticks, but she’s not weirdly obsessed like I am.
When I volunteered for the PTA’s book fair, I knew I had to bring some sticks with me. Mama needs nourishment! I pack up an insane amount (in case anyone wants to share) and shove the container in my purse. I consider having a shot of whiskey, but I feel that would be frowned upon. Nothing like showing up to your kid’s school with whiskey on your breath!
Class after class after class streams in. Some kids buy books. Some ask a zillion questions. Some motormouth your ear off and all you can think is “your mom drinks, doesn’t she?”
When we finally have a break, the group of us joke about splitting a bottle of wine. I open up the sticks.
“What’s that?” asks Flora.
“Mozzarella cheese sticks. It’s a new brand I found. Want one?”
“Sure,” she says as she finds the paper towels and tears off a piece. She likes them.
Since no one else is interested (more for me!), Flora helps me polish off half the container . In comes another class. Then another. Then another.
When the second break comes, Claire comes in. Claire is annoying, self-centered and quite frankly, mean. Her kids are total brats, but she keeps making excuses for them. She’s such a joy to be around. That’s total sarcasm, by the way.
Flora and I exchange glances and roll our eyes. She mentions the cheese sticks and I pull out the container as we start chatting about them. Claire interrupts.
“What are you talking about?”
I take a deep breath. “Cheese sticks.” then attempt to continue my conversation with Flora. Claire is having none of it.
“MY cheese sticks?”
“What? No. I tried some new mozzarella cheese sticks and I decided to share.”
“Were they mine?”
“You weren’t even here, but you have cheese sticks?”
I resist the urge to slap my forehead. “Then how in the hell would I have YOUR cheese sticks?”
“Well, they look like mine,” Claire snorts as she walks away.
Flora shakes her head. “Well that was completely unnecessary.”
My turn to snort. “What’s she think? That I sneak into her house, raid her freezer and jack her cheese sticks?”
Flora starts to laugh and chokes on her water. “Stop! I almost drowned in my water bottle.”
We laugh. Two more classes come in.
As the last class leaves, we count out the registers. While things are being added up, Flora and I discuss the cheese sticks again. She wants to know where I got them and I promise to take a pic of the box and send it to her when I get home.
Claire comes up again. She laughs insanely loud and says, “Are you guys talking about my cheese sticks again?”
At this point, I’m super irritated. “Seriously? This has nothing to do with YOUR cheese sticks.”
Claire laughs again. “Just checking,” she says as she grabs her purse and leaves.
She doesn’t leave. She is waiting on the stairwell for Flora and I. She thinks we should get together soon. I tell her I’m really busy. Flora says her kids might be sick. Claire doesn’t even realize we’re screwing with her. She says she’ll text us both as she walks to her car.
“Please don’t,” I say, only loud enough for Flora to hear. We share a laugh then get into our cars. I’m so excited to do this all over again tomorrow! No really, I am. It’s just rough dealing with Claire. You’ll see.