I’m a single mom with two mouths to feed, and I was doing the business of buying my family some groceries over the weekend. It was the only time during the week that I had any free time to do this.
I was paying for food at the grocery store when a man and his kid approached me. I suppose the man had nothing better to do, but the kid, who appeared to be around five, said he liked my “bat woman” tattoo excitedly.
His father condescendingly asked how many I had. I told him I had 11. He scoffed and asked how waiting tables all my life sounded and I said, “it’s alright on the weekends, but throughout the week I’m your son’s teacher.” He walked out without another word.
When you judge another, you do not define them; you define yourself.
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