Today has been a day of many errands. Many engagements with many “strangers,” and people I don’t know: the gal at Target with whom I started chatting in the cleaning-supplies aisles, the cashier at the Turkish grocery store down the street from where I live, the person helping me use my store-credit card at the self-checkout line at Home Depot. (That last one is an instance where a properly placed hyphen makes all the difference in meaning.)
The usual pleasantries ensued: Have a great day. Thanks for your help. Stay dry out there. All that.
Today, though, there has been an extra pleasantry added on: Happy Mother’s Day.
While I don’t take offense to the well wishes, I find it fascinating that my sex/gender/body/look has people assume I’m a mother. I’m not, by choice (though I did an extensive and anonymous egg donor thing-y back in my late 20s, so … who knows). But I’m not A Mother.
Again, no offense taken for the well wishes and shout-out to all the moms (and dads and people who embrace and care for children). I simply find the assumption interesting to notice and note.
And while I’m at it, Happy (early) Mother’s Day to all the moms and grandmoms and aunties and so on out there. With a most particular and specific shout-out to my mother, Eileen Newburn one of the most amazing and influential people in helping to shape me into the woman and person I am today.