Moms hold these truths to be self-evident.

[Maria Graziano]

Mom Truth: There is nothing worse for your self-confidence than to sit in the waiting area while your kid takes gymnastics/ballet/martial arts/etc. Save your sanity. Sit in the car to wait.

“I wouldn’t know what the first grade curriculum is, Bonnie,” one of the women said, haughtiness dripping like droplets of acid in her tone. “My Oliver had been moved ahead to second grade after he scored in the 98th percentile in the Martin-Haggersward Test. He’s doing swimmingly at Henry W. Fields Elementary School.”

Maria leaned her head back against the brick wall, shifting uncomfortably in the plastic chair, and closed her eyes.

“Don’t, Mom,” Adie murmured at her side without looking up from the homework balanced in her lap. She had twelve years of managing her mother’s attitude. Her mother’s ire was a palpable air she could sense at this point. “Those women aren't worth the air it would take to put them in their place and they're certainly not going to change.”

Annoyance was heavy in Bonnie’s voice as she spoke in return to her friend. “Oh, I forgot Oliver was still at Henry W. Fields. You really must consider private school, Jill. My Clementine and Hugo are thriving at Riverbend.”

“Jesus Christ,” Maria murmured.

Adie looked up and glanced briefly through the glass window into where her four year old half-sister, Brooklyn, and her two year old half-brother, Noah, were learning how to fall properly after leg sweeps. After ensuring that the two were having a good time, Adie’s hazel eyes lifted to her mom’s face. “Just don't listen."

“Her kids’ names are ‘Clementine’ and ‘Hugo’, Adie. I can’t take this upper class dystopian nightmare anymore,” Maria murmured back.

Adie huffed out a very preteen exhale of air as her gaze returned to her homework. “You named your kids ‘Brooklyn’ and ‘Noah’. You’re fully in this nightmare, Mom.”

Jill turned towards Maria, pleasantly ignorant to the whispers between mother and daughter and offered a tight smile. “Maria, you and Tical believe in supporting public education, don’t you?”

“Tical and I believe in our kids not being uptight assholes,” Maria replied back, lifting her head from against the wall. The reply caused Adie to issue another irritated exhale, closing her textbook on her pencil and notebook.

“Now, Maria, you know River Bend has a tremendous amount of diversity,” Bonnie said smoothly, her smile plastered in place.

Maria huffed out a laugh and Adie braced as the class came to an end and kids began to spill out into the waiting area. “I’m sorry. Do you think because kids that look like my kids and a couple half-elves are hanging out at the school, your kids are less likely to be assholes? My kids’ job is not to make your kids not be dickheads. That’s your job.”

“And, look, here’s Brooklyn and Noah. Time to go, Mom,” Adie said in a falsely cheerful voice as she helped Noah shove his feet into his boots.

The tension in the little waiting area was unnoticed by the rush of chattering children. Jill looked like she would have very happily faded into the background but Bonnie was gathering herself up and rising to her feet to stare down Maria. “You. Need. Professional. Help.”

“I’ve been there and done that. I might be messy but I’m pretty much good with that. You’re the woman here trying to pretend like your kids don’t still eat their boogers and that you don’t lock yourself in your closet at least once a week with a bottle of wine.”

Bonnie’s bottom jaw tightened and she took a step closer to Maria. Maria lifted a hand to stop the approach. “Girl, I may be retired but if you take one more step on me you’re going to be needing surgery to fix your nose again.”

Adie grabbed Brooklyn and Noah’s hands tightly in hers as she began escorting them to the door. “Time to go, Mom.” Maria shot a glare at Bonnie but moved to fall in beside Adie as they moved towards the door. “This right here is why I said it would be best to wait in the car, Mom.”

Maria caught the door and held it in place for them, shooting Adie a frown as she and the little ones followed her out. “And waste the gas on keeping it heated? Hell no.”

“What’s wrong?” Noah asked cluelessly as he looked up between his oldest sister and mother.

Brooklyn replied with words and a grin stolen straight from her father. “Mama’s still itching to slay.”