I do not do “fake” well. In fact, I don’t do it at all if it can be helped. I had to make an exception the other day. I was out with my girls at a popular frozen yogurt spot around here. I prefer not to go there as it is crowded and trendy. I like mom and pop joints where you are helping the owner start their business…we have one of those right up the street, but I had a gift card. We are trying to decide on the choice of yogurt when I hear a voice like Mrs. Doubtfire say “Oh my! You girls are nearly as tall as I am.” I turn and register my surprise and try to contain my face from showing my feelings all at the same time. She is going for nice. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. All that took 3 seconds possibly, but in my head it was like Matrix time.
She chatters away asking me where I work and what’s going on with my life, blabbity, blah, blah. We finish getting our yogurt as my girls add 3,000 toppings, she goes behind the counter to re-fresh the supplies. I feel some relief as there is now a barrier between us and she can’t fake-hug me again. As we leave, she says quite cheerily “Come back and see us again girls, stop by any time!” I nod my head and mumble something unintelligible like “thanks”.
Now, let me explain why I do not care for her. She was mean to kids. Period. MEAN. TO. KIDS. She was fake-nice to parents and then would whisper the most horrible, awful, evil things like a serial killer would say. You know, the kind who look like everyone should like them, but have some dungeon in their basement like Hannibal Lecter. That’s her. She looks like Mrs. Doubtfire, but thinks like Mrs. Lecter. Creepy. So creepy.
The bottom line folks is because I was trying to make a good impression on my children, I did something I don’t normally do. Once we got in the car, I asked my girls if they remembered her. One of them remembered. She also knew she wasn’t a nice person inside. All the make-up in the world couldn’t hide her true character. Remember that.
I teach being true to yourself and I stand by that in everything I do.