Today is Meaghan’s birthday. She is seven years old.
My baby is no longer a baby. Short, yes. Often mistaken for a younger child, yes. Usually a four year old. Until she opens her mouth, that is. Her mastery of sarcasm leaves a lot of people aghast.
I’m so proud.
Today’s customer service moment went something like this:
CUSTOMER: “I’m looking for snowman hats”
ME, polite & helpful: “These ones?”
CUSTOMER: “Yes, those look like the right ones. Are they the right size?” She furrows her brows, trying to remember.
ME, explaining patiently: “This is the only size they come in.”
CUSTOMER, confused: “Remember the class we did…?”
ME, thinking: (Yeah, I remember exactly. I taught it, I planned it, I designed it. Of course I remember!)
ME out loud: “Yes, these are the hats we used.”
CUSTOMER, still trying to remember: “I’m not sure if they’re the right size…”
ME, rolling my eyes: “These are the ones.” I’m pretty sure. Dead certain, in fact.
CUSTOMER, eyes lit up: “Do you have any of those bowling pins we used to make the snowman?” She has an idea.
ME, curious: “I might have one, why?”
CUSTOMER: “I want to check and see if this hat is the right size.”
It’s days like these I want to go back to bed.