Today is Rosh Hashanah, and Happy New Year to all you celebrating.
To me and my über Catholic town, it’s another day off from school. Which is a total pain in the ass for work-at-home moms. (Not to worry, Good Friday pisses me off as well. I’m an equal-opportunity religious holiday bigot.)
But that’s not the problem. This is:
This kid is in 6th grade, and seriously? If your kid is out of pull-ups, looking for pubes and underarm hair on a daily basis, playdate should be stricken from your vocabulary. As a mom of 4 who the only thing I hated more than the horrid “playdate” was when the newbie moms didn’t drop and run, but instead stayed. And stayed. And stayed.
Who exactly is this playdate for? Leave the kid and get the fuck out already.
Which I not-so-tactfully shared with the simply lovely, picture perfect mom who extended the invitation via email:
playdate? Oh my darwin, bite your tongue.
if out of pull-ups, then the horrific word playdate is stripped from memory. GONE. Like breastpads. Ew. Nothing strikes fear in me like a PLAYDATE.
If the boys would like to hang-out that would be really great. I’m working all day from home and am flexible!
To which she responded:
Oh kiss my ass. What time do you wanna bring him over to “hang out”?
“Kiss my ass.” Not-so lovely after all! Which is why he’s going. And I’m staying for coffee.