Should I be Offended?

Two recent events had me sitting and pondering – Should I be offended?

 

Quick background information to understand scenario one. I’m not sure how much I wrote about it, but Primero had been getting close to a young man at the end of the school year in the spring. They came close to messing around (physically) and the young man seemed rather interested in Primero as more than just a friend (although, to me, it seemed like the young man wanted less of a relationship and more of a booty-call situation). That is, until the young man’s parents found out their son was hanging out with my son who identifies as bi-sexual. They quickly put the kibosh on the situation and forbade their son from even communicating with my son, who was rather hurt by the whole thing as you can imagine. I expressed indignant outrage when the boy's mom rebuffed my son’s (very mature) efforts to let her get to know him before passing judgment. She said he wouldn’t be welcome in their home but could come to their church. I gave her a scathing tongue lashing (not in person because we have never met – thank goodness!) and concentrated my efforts to helping heal Primero’s wounds. Fast forward to the start of the new school year and this young man is in one of Primero’s classes and seemingly trying to rekindle whatever it was they had before. Somehow recently, because this is a small town we live in, Primero’s mother met this young man’s mother and, having been informed of the above issue, “went ghetto” on her, screaming and threatening to fight her for being “ignorant” towards her son. Primero, in relaying this story to me said, “You can’t imagine how angry she was about This Boy’s mom saying what she said.” To which I replied, “Yes, yes I can because that was me about 4 months ago when this first happened.” I mean….. hello?! It’s hard to not feel some type of way about this, you know what I mean?

 

Not long after the above exchange, where Primero’s mother came riding in as the righteous and conquering hero to an old situation, Chica Marie looked at me and said, “You know Mommy, you’re a good mommy. Almost as good as my Mommy V.” Face palm. I’m done!

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