We set out and I started to take one of my usual routes - until we neared a playground and I had a stroke of genius. Instead of pushing 30+ pounds of weight and worrying about every oncoming car that would pass us on the narrow, 2 lane route, I decided, instead, to park Pax on the edge of the less-than-quarter mile track that encompasses a baseball diamond where I could run without having to push him and he could sit, content to watch PBS Kids on my iphone, in full view of me and in easy hearing distance.
I responded in a way that I instantly regretted. "Screw you," I said as I unlocked the brakes on the stroller wheels. "I don't have time for this shit." She responded, "You don't have time for this? You want me to call the cops?" "Go ahead," I said more evenly this time. And ran off. I ran for half an hour longer, thinking of better responses, more appropriate ones, kinder ones. And I burned with anger and frustration at being so unfairly judged.