Remember the bitter baby mama, yeah that’s what you called her.
You first saw her in the grocery store, right? She was standing there yelling at her kids, using all types of profanity.
“Don’t touch a motha…” Is how she started her first sentence. Telling her three kids to keep their hands to themselves.
She looked tired and worn out, but you didn’t give a damn. Even though you saw her five year old touch the M&Ms 10 times, after she said not to, you judge her. Harshly. You said she was a pathetic mama to talk to her kids like that.
And when you overheard her saying she was a single mama, you rolled your eyes.
You said to yourself, “how could she take it out on her kids? They didn’t ask to be here. Nobody should have to suffer behind her poor choices.
Another bitter baby mama.
You looked down upon her with disgust, as you guarded your children as if you were blocking them from some contagious rare disease. You watched her struggle to carry her baby, push the cart with several grocery bags and walk in her raggedy high heel shoes.
You even joked with your partner and said she was probably on the government’s assistance. She probably bought her groceries with her EBT card. You didn’t know that woman, but you threw so much dirt on her name you would have thought it was planting season.
Then you watched her grabbed all her groceries and walk to the bus stop. A baby on her arm, one barely walking and an older child trying to carry as many groceries as he could. He was filled with shame too.
“These kids deserve a mom they could be proud!” Is what you had the nerve to say.
You were looking from the outside in, thinking you had it all figured out. You saw her rolling her eyes defensively sitting with her three kids at the bus stop.
You stared at her and said, “How could she be so stupid” Nobody told her to open her legs and have kids before she got married. Why wasn’t she on birth control?
You even said she is probably one of those women who won’t let the man see his kids, put him on child support and hate any new chick he dates. The drama type. The bitter baby mama type.
You gathered that all in one trip to the store. Never spoke to this woman one time. Didn’t even know her name.
