Just because we come prepared with snacks, tables and a shady tent- let me reiterate- a shady tent, not even a mediocre tent-does not mean that we are lame. Am I right?
This weekend, I spent time with a few very special ladies at the Lady Antebellum concert.
Apparently, our tailgate spot was dead in the center of 17-year-old-alley and once the booze started flowing, we were told that they'd been referring to us as "the mom tailgate."
Yep. That happened.
Do I look like a mom to you? Don't answer that, readers. What does a mom really look like anyway? Don't answer that either.
When probed, I responded with my age to which then the 17-year-olds replied "You're not married yet?" "I will die if I'm not married by your age."
And then— I dropped some serious wisdom on these tube-top wearing, skinny bitches.
You think you know everything when you're 17. But, in fact, you don't. Your mother was right. Your boyfriend was an asshole. School was awesome. Oh, and your body will probably never be better...'er tighter.
Then, when you're finally old enough to realize all of that, you'll realize that even in your late twenties you are still just a baby, trying to figure it all out, being part of a much larger picture and working your butt off to make a life for yourself.
Oh, and if that all works out, then—and only then—you'll decide to maybe share it with someone. And...if you don't. Well, that's just fine too.