Mama Pajama

Here I am once again on the number 6 train turtling downtown. If that announcement comes on one more time…we are being delayed by train traffic ahead of us, please be patient…I’ll find that announcer and pull his larynx out with pliers.

As I’m chanting the Serenity Prayer, a young, robust black woman gets on at the 51st Street stop with a little boy she’s dragging onto the car by his hood. My child abuse light without much ado flips right on.

While I watch her pull him along like a bulky parcel, I can feel myself start to twitch. Alright, so he was slightly pokey, but he’s six if he’s a day and I ask you, who exactly is enthusiastic at 6:30 in the morning…a cocaine addict perhaps, a Parisian who’s just landed?

I say give the kid a break, but Mama Pajama clearly left her patience in her other pants. Well they looked like pajamas, but on closer inspection were just very festive balloon inspired trousers, the kind chefs wear at Mexican restaurants. I bet her son was just plain dizzy having to look at them first thing in the morning.

I keep staring at the diamond pinned to her nose snidely thinking, ha…she must have missed her ear. Made me miss my diamond studs that were stolen from my very first sublet teaching me a hard lesson…always change the locks.

But I’m digressing…

This woman, after someone gets up, decides to move to the end seat assuming junior will follow, but he just sits where he is lost in a child’s own special reverie. I could see those wee wheels whimsically turning…free at last, free at last. However, if looks could kill he’d  be back in the womb, so he reluctantly slides over…eyes rolling, dragging those stubborn, little feet.

Suddenly he starts to cough and without prompting from his mother, covers his mouth like a tiny gentleman. Well I’ll be damned, I think, she’s a good mom after all. Grown-ups nowadays don’t cover their mouths, that’s why New York has had an outbreak of tuberculosis particularly rampant on public transportation.

My feelings toward this woman swiftly change.

Children need to be taught and so often aren’t as we are witness to time and time again. Watching this little boy’s manners manifest make me see he’s a work in loving progress and his mother is on 24-hour duty making certain this happens.

If she were still in her pajamas, I can now see why. Training anyone whether it be a kid, an employee or a puppy can be exhausting.

Yes, I can admit when I’m wrong…

so my harsh eyes soften in her general direction as we continue turtling our way downtown…we are being delayed by train traffic ahead of us, please be patient.

Oh God.

SB

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Family, humor, kids, Love, New York City, parents, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to Mama Pajama

  1. micklively says:

    Isn’t there a Spin Doctors song?
    I’ve woken with ear-ache this morning, so I’ve been thinking of you for a long time. I think there’s a compliment of sorts trying to escape here somewhere.
    Thanks for another interesting post.

    Like

  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    You know, Susannah, it’s amazing how small, almost insignificant things can completely change our perception of someone else, for the better or worse.

    Like

    • This is true. I was batted around as a kid so I’m very sensitive to anything remotely resembling abuse. It’s a huge wound of mine and frankly, even though I realized her plight with her son, it was still a tad too rough for my taste. Don’t get me wrong, that gesture of covering his mouth spoke to me, but kids need to be treated gently so they become gentle adults. Of course sometimes you become one anyway, I’m a prefect example, but sometimes, and more oftentimes not. Always welcome your views Skinny.

      Like

  3. Great read this morning. Saw this post before I went to bed last night, was going to read and decided to have my joy in the morning. Poor Mama Pajama… only she knows what transpired before heading onto the train… love how you observed them and wrote them. You have a talent and I enjoy it! DAF

    Like

    • You’re so kind. I have a penchant to eavesdrop is what I have…but it fuels my writing…at least that’s what I tell myself when I start to feel guilty knowing whoever it is will end up on the page with their pants down so to speak. Worked a very long day yesterday which has left me beat, but need to cut and snip a Camille adventure for tomorrow. She requires tailoring I guess one would say…so do I 🙂

      Like

  4. D. D. Syrdal says:

    There’s a young woman in my office who complains loudly about other people’s bad hygiene and etiquette…while she sits hacking at her desk without covering her mouth. Under those circumstances I think it would justifiable homicide, non?

    Like

  5. A good soul always recognizes another good soul…even when they are well hidden behind hideous pants.

    Like

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