Free People I Want to Punch in the Throat by Jen Mann Page A

playdates and sleepovers like Gomer.
    As soon as she hit preschool, she started begging me to book her social calendar.
    Although I’m one of the least feminine people you’ll meet, I gave birth to a princess. In those days Adolpha would only wear pink or purple—preferably with a feather boa or a tiara—and she refused to play with boys. There weren’t too many girls to choose from because her class was heavy on boys. I tried arranging playdates. I asked a couple of moms if their daughters could come and play, but they had various (normal) reasons why their kids couldn’t come over—dance class, gymnastics class, and so on.
    “What about Evelyn?” Adolpha asked me.
    “Who?” I asked.
    “Evelyn. You didn’t ask her.”
    She was right. I didn’t see Evelyn’s name on the list the teacher had given me. The next time I picked up Adolpha, I asked the teacher about Evelyn.
    “Oh yes, they asked not to be on the contact list,” the teacher told me.
    “Really? That seems odd. Don’t they want Evelyn to be invited to play or to birthday parties?” I asked.
    “I’m not sure,” the teacher replied. “Her mom is real … protective.”
    “I see,” I said.
    “There’s Evelyn!” Adolpha yelled, tugging my hand.
    I looked up and saw a woman carrying her toddler. Adolpha and I went up to them.
    “Hi,” I said, sticking out my hand. “I’m Jen. Adolpha’s mom.”
    “I figured,” she replied, ignoring my hand. “I’ve kind of got my hands full here.”
    Okay, she’s a tough one , I thought. Adolpha likes her kid, though, and wants a playdate. Don’t screw this up .
    I continued, “So, Adolpha wanted to know if Evelyn can come over one day this week and play.”
    “I don’t know you” was the reply I got.
    I was a little taken aback. That’s harsh. Maybe she’s having a bad day? “Well, that’s true. As I said before, I’m Adolpha’s mom. I’ve been coming to this preschool for three years now. My son, Gomer, was also a student here, and we’ve had Ms. Rebecca the whole time. She knows me.”
    “I understand you’re Adolpha’s mother and maybe Ms. Rebecca knows you, but I don’t know you. I barely know Ms. Rebecca.”
    I was dumbfounded. I had no idea how to reply to this.
    I didn’t know what else to say, so I repeated myself like an asshole: “As I said, I’m Adolpha’s mother, Jen.” As if that was going to make her feel better. Ohhh, you’re Jen. I didn’t catch your name the first three times you said it. Thanks for continually repeating it. Now I know you! I tried, “Adolpha would love to have Evelyn over to play. Just for an hour or so.”
    “I’m not comfortable having Evelyn in your house. I don’t know you.”
    If she said “I don’t know you” one more time, I was going to scream, I don’t know you, either, lady, but what the fuck is your problem?
    Now I was getting a smidge offended. It’s not like I’m on a watch list of any kind!
    “I don’t allow Evelyn to go to anyone’s home that I don’t know. Terrifying things happen in other people’s homes.”
    Now I was intrigued. “Like what?” I asked.
    “Well, for instance, fires. Do you have a fire plan? I doubt it. Most homeowners don’t. Do you run fire drills with your children? Do you have fire extinguishers on every floor?”
    “Umm … we have smoke detectors,” I said.
    “Smoke detectors don’t put out fires,” she replied. “What if thegirls were upstairs and a fire started and you couldn’t get to them?”
    “Were you in a fire?” I asked, thinking maybe that was why she was so crazy.
    “Of course not. We have a fire plan.”
    I was ready to tell this lady that a “fire plan” doesn’t actually prevent fires any more than my smoke detectors do, but the look on Adolpha’s face made me keep going. She just wanted Evelyn to come over and play with her dolls!
    “Look, it’s not a big deal. I’ve never lived in a house that has caught fire, we don’t keep weapons in our house, I