Reflections from The Kitchen Sink on One Bad Mom

Bad Mom

“You are one bad*!% mom,” the young man said to me.

It was his fourth trip to my home to repair something in the last couple months. He’s a young guy. Maybe late 20’s, I’m guessing.

I’m assuming he could tell his comment caught was surprising to me because he chose to elaborate without my asking.

He said, “I’ve never seen a woman do all that you do. You just do what has to be done regardless of how hard it is.”

He continued by telling me he had never seen a “lady in a skirt haul out and fix a mower issue” and how that was “straight.”

I hate to admit how often I Google terminology to try to stay on top of my street talk, but this time, I just used my context clues and realized he was complimenting me.

I refrained from giving him the mom-eye for his “bad butt” descriptor and just told him that people just have to do what they have to do to survive.

Today at the sink, his comments came back to me with a sprinkle of gratitude.

My parents were just hard-working, honest people. I was taught that most of the time you get out of something what you put in.

My dad was career military, so Mom did what had to be done to keep the house going when Dad was away. When he retired from the Air Force, he worked and farmed a lot of 15 and 16 hour days. Again, Mom did what had to be done.

That set a pattern and an expectation of how I needed to push through life.

I have a stubbornness and an independence that while quite behooving a lot of the time can be perceived inaccurately. Just because someone looks strong doesn’t mean he or she is. There may be a necessary “Cowgirl, up!” to my gait, yet that doesn’t mean my inner woman wouldn’t appreciate a knight in shining armor swooping in to save me or that I’m not a disaster waiting for a private moment to unleash itself. Be careful how you allow your perceptions to control your actions and reactions.

The sunrise is on the horizon. I don’t hear any galloping hooves racing this way, so it is time for me to get on the task at hand. At least today I will have another good chuckle about the moniker I was given. I may have to find the censored version on a coffee cup to help remind me on my more challenging days at the sink that at least one person thinks I’ve got it going on.

…coffee cup or tattoo?! Everyone knows I’m too cheap for the latter, but my rebellious spark got the best of me for a minute! Oh, the ensuing rumors…yes, we will hit that topic up from the sink one day, too…just not today.

Until next time.Bio: Melinda Campbell is a retired educator who currently focuses her efforts on raising her two teenaged boys, advocating for individuals with special needs and against drunk driving, and serving in her local community. Melinda has been gaining recognition for her writings labeled “Reflections from my Kitchen Sink” since the tragic death of her husband Michael in 2015. In her stories, she shares observations from her daily life including moments she has as a solo parent, a widow, and a woman who battles significant health issues including fibromyalgia and depression. Her goal is to encourage others through the experiences that are common to so many. Her practical approach to life’s obstacles has become a weekly mainstay for her readers from across the country.