The highs and lows of parenting and real estate.

Burritos at the Pool Don’t Make Friends

Dear Mom at the Pool Today,

Your kids are super cute. They also seem pretty well-behaved. Well, I mean, I didn’t see either of them throw a water gun at another kid’s head and appear non-plussed when the kid burst into tears, like mine did. So points for you there.

Also your tiny little bikini is fantastic. It really accents your sparkly belly ring and adorable lower back dimples that only come with 3% body fat. Where did you get it? No, never mind. It’s OK, I have no use for that information.

Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and give you some friendly advice for, you know, general survival in our subdivision. Well, and around any other women ever. Just a little neighborly chitchat to help you out.

So here goes:

Um, it’s really just bad form to look like that with two children under the age of 4, wear that swimsuit and lounge poolside while eating a burrito the size of my head from Filiberto’s. Also the bag of barbecue chips? Was just insult to injury.

The men at the pool may have been convinced. They were all likely thinking to themselves, See? I don’t know what Sherrie is talking about. It’s obviously easy to maintain a fit physique and also enjoy fun food with me after she’s given birth several times. My wife is just really not trying hard enough in some way. Like… genetically. She should try harder to have better genes. But here’s what it comes down to; we ladies all know what was going on was one of two things:

1. You didn’t actually ingest that burrito. You were carrying it around as a big Fuck You to the rest of the Moms gathered around the pool trying desperately to camouflage our stretch marks and puffy areas with ruffles and bold prints. You took one bite to make it look realistic but the rest of that enormous potential food baby? Went right in the trash.


2. Your master closet is regularly home to ziplock bags filled with the evidence of the purging you are required to do to look like that and eat like that, until you have a chance to secretly get rid of them so your staff/husband don’t know what’s going on.

If the situation is the latter, you should really knock that off and get some help, because that is not good for your teeth. Or like anything else about your body and soul. You just have such a sweet body (and I’m sure soul); I really want to help you, is what I’m saying.

And if it’s the former, shit like that is not making you any friends, Dear. Our husbands might be enjoying the fantasy, but at some point that sort of behavior is going to get you lynched. I’m not saying I’ll lead the charge or anything (unless they like really need a leader and then, well, I mean what can I say? Neighborhood causes are important to me and I’m all about lending support where it’s required.) but it’s going to happen. Like I said, I just don’t want to see you get hurt.

I guess the point of all of this is, you’re hot, and that’s like really great for you that you can grow several human beings in your womb and end up physically free of all evidence of such trauma, but extravagantly rubbing it in by pretending it’s scientifically possible in any way to eat giant burritos after having kids and still look like a Victoria’s Secret model is the way bitches get cut. And I don’t want that for you. Because I care.


A Loving Neighborhood Mom Just Trying to Help


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