Your eyes burn a hole in my back as I struggle out of the store
I feel the irritation and aggrivation you are feeling towards me

“What kind of a Mother……?”

I’m sorry that it took a few extra seconds for my items at the checkout
It’s not easy to write a check, show ID and juggle a sick toddler on your hip

I can hear the voice in your head thinking I’m a bad Mom
My child’s shirt is dirty, her hair is messy, her nose is runny and she’s whinning

Stero-typical daycare raised child

You look at me in diguest thinking bad things about me
My suit, worn designer purse and heels, highlighted hair, smudged lipstick

Stero-typical career minded woman

How can she look presentable, yet her child is unkept and messy
What kind of a Mother is she, dragging her sick daughter to the store?

A mother who dosen’t have the luxury of staying at home with her sick child
Not working towards better opportunites are not an option

If you looked further you would see tears of frustration and tiredness
Snot from her runny nose on the sleeve of my suit, and hear her whisper

“My Momma”