At work the other day, I was in an elevator talking about the television shows I watch with a coworker. Another woman was standing with us and it was said that we talk a lot about the shows we watch. This realization prompted the woman standing along side us in the elevator said, “Well, wait until you have kids.”
My coworker and I reached our floor, we stepped out, and as the elevator doors closed we looked at each other and said, “Are you kidding me?” To my coworker, it was a comment she hears all too often in her job which is mainly with the married-with-children type.
The woman’s comment outraged my coworker because she hears the same comments about her age and marital status (and child-less status) all the time.
The woman’s comment outraged me because she didn’t even hear me begin to talk about my cat. Her name is Mable, but I also call her Bacon because “Mable Bacon.”
I have one thing to say to you, lady: Nothing compares to my cat obsession.
My Instagram account right now:
Yes, I censored my friends in my photo.
Yes, I took an inspirational quote and made slapped it on a photo of Mable.
But do I care? No. I’m too busy obsessing over my cat.