The Bitch & Big Daddy.
If you’ve gotten to know me at all from reading this column, then you may have figured out that I’m a pretty practical girl. I’m not big on superstition, not a fan of forced sentimentality, and I have a low tolerance for vagueness. I’m also not very sensitive when it comes to social slights. If some friends have lunch and don’t invite me, I don’t take it personally. If someone forgets to call me on my birthday, I get over it. In other words, it takes a lot to make me upset.
Fortunately for me, I have nice friends, and I don’t get upset very often. But recently, I’ve found myself embroiled in what can only be called a middle school-like drama, and I am really, really pissed about it. Here’s what happened: Last year, my daughter’s preschool class had sixteen kids in it. Half of them we knew from before, including several whose parents I am very good friends with. The other half I didn’t know at all. The room mother was a woman from the half I didn’t know, and we’ll call her, oh, I don’t know, let’s see, how about, Bitch. Anyway, Bitch’s daughter was turning five at the very beginning of the school year, and for her birthday party, Bitch chose to invite only those kids her daughter knew from the year before, plus my daughter and one other girl.
Now, me not being sensitive about things like this, I was like, okay, whatever, and we went to the birthday party. It turns out, however, that other people are sensitive to things like this, and when the other parents in the class found out that Harper and this other girl were invited and their daughters were not, all hell broke loose. I should mention here that our preschool has a birthday party policy, which states that you either invite the whole class, or just the boys or just the girls from the class, but you may not pick and choose who you invite based on who your child likes the best, because that is just mean. Well, one of my friends, let’s call him Big Daddy, was so appalled by Bitch’s behavior – especially given that she was Room Mother – that he called her up and told her off, and then he called up the preschool Director and ratted Bitch out. You with me so far? Good.
When I heard about all of this, I actually spent some time trying to defend Bitch to Big Daddy. Not because I thought she was right, but because I thought he had slightly overreacted to the whole thing. Big Daddy, not surprisingly, disagreed, and he and his wife decided that they would HATE Bitch for all of eternity. Good old practical me, however, determined that, since I really had nothing to do with this, there was no reason why I couldn’t still be friendly towards Bitch and maintain my close friendship with Big Daddy. And that is how it went, for the rest of the school year. Bitch and I sometimes talked at pickup and drop off, and once, in March, she invited me and my kids over for a playdate, which went fine.