>Bad Mommy

>If you think I was joking about not fitting in with the other moms, well, I wasn’t. And here’s proof.

I returned from BlogHer this past week just in time for a command performance kiddie birthday party, for which Punky had an invitation. For bizarre and gossipy reasons I won’t even get into here, we had to be there, even though it was Hubs’s birthday, and I didn’t know any of the other parents or kids in attendance. With the house in upheaval from my older girls and I all arriving home from the airport late the night before, Hubs ran out to buy a Barbie from the toy store and I pulled an appropriate girl’s birthday party card from the stash I keep on hand just for these kinds of last-minute occasions. Punky wrote her name at the bottom, I put everything in a cute gift bag, and off Hubs, Punky and I went, presenting the ridiculous front that we were just like every other suburban family in the neighborhood.

I managed to make small talk with the other mothers and to not say the “F” word or piss anyone off for most of the party. In fact, until the very end, it appeared the event was going to be a success.

And then it was time for the presents to be opened.

As the newly-five-year-old birthday girl ripped into her gifts, her mother opened and read the cards aloud. When she got to her present from us, the child was suitably impressed by the Barbie, as were her tiny female guests.

Then her mother read the card.

“Hearts and flowers and girly stuff,” she intoned, before opening the card and continuing, “On your special day. Happy Birth- er, Valentine’s Day.”

The room grew silent. Hubs looked at me accusingly. I smiled. What else was I supposed to do?

“I’m sorry,” I called out. “What can I say?”

“It’s all right,” the girl’s mother said. “She, um, loves hearts, so….”

“So basically, I suck,” I said quietly to Hubs. He shook his head.

“Valentine’s Day?” he whispered.

“In July,” I replied. “I know. What did you expect, though? This is not my thing.”

This post originally appeared on Parents.com.