new old more book profile blog rings host

prev don't mourn, organize next
2002-07-24 | 3:15 p.m.

My neighbor, three doors up the street, started a club for stay-at-home Moms. Two years ago. I'm beginning to think she's not planning to mention it to me.

It doesn't really hurt. Oh, it hurts a little, in the nobody-loves-me way, because I want everybody to like me, and they just never do. On the other hand, I know I bring it on myself. Because I'm weird, let's face it, and I don't invite people in, or if I do I regret it. Sometimes, I see neighbors out of the corner of my eye and I pretend not to see them and I go back into my house before I have to talk to them. My lawn doesn't look like it should. I swear too much. I talk too loud and my kids spend half their time in the backyard screaming and three or four times a year Duff and I get into an ugly shouting match. Often, I let my kids dress themselves. For these and other crimes against suburbanity, I plead no contest.

Which I why, I can only assume, I have not been invited to join the Moms Club. That's what they call it: The Moms Club. As if all Moms were potential members. And yet, when I looked at the members' pictures, I noticed that in a town that's one-fourth black, one-fourth Asian, and one-fifth Mexican, the club is exclusively white, except for two Filipinos and a Hispanic-by-marriage.

I'm thinking they need a new outreach director.

So I told myself I should just make my own damn Moms club. Except one with no meetings, because I absolutely hate meetings. A club for Moms--no, parents--who don't quite fit in with the mainstream parenting groups. If we get big enough, we can have get-togethers. (But still, no meetings.) I think I'll call it the counterculture parents club. I'll make a diaryring and a web page, and then you can join, too. If you want, I mean.

Okay, I made a ring called weirdparents. Hmm, now we need a good button...

prev archive next
0 comments

if you're not reading mawm you're not reading me
random