There is an evil, bloodsucking demon that takes many forms and shows up in the most innocuous of public places. If you are a mother, you have more than likely ran into this demon. I like to call her HOB for Hateful, Opinionated Bitch. Or, if you prefer, Horribly Obnoxious Bitch. You say tom-ot-o, I say tom-ay-toe.
For me, HOB usually inhabits the grocery store. I’m usually shopping with one or both of my children and some awful stranger speaks up. Months ago when Arlo was screaming his head off because he needed a nap and I was trying frantically to pack my own groceries, HOB in the form of a white-haired, withered woman said: “I want to be picked up, mommy!” How “mommy” was supposed to pick the baby up with her third hand while packing her groceries is an essential tip that HOB failed to include in her helpful suggestion.
Realizing that sometimes it’s useful to have both her hands available to her, Mommy Dearest wore a sling during many subsequent shopping trips when Arlo was of the age when he would scream bloody murder if not constantly held and moved about. This did not satisfy HOB, either, who on several occasions, taking on both young and old forms, informed this well-meaning mother that: “It looks like your poor baby is going to fall right out of that thing!”
Next in line, in the unsolicited and fucking frustrating comments that HOB likes to make are ones related to what the children are wearing. Because we practically live in the Arctic Circle, after fighting with various boots and mittens to stay on, I opted to get Arlo a one-piece snow-suit with attached hood, mittens, and booties. I didn’t realize my dear friend HOB would find fault with this. Sure enough, though, while shopping in the mall if he were the least bit cranky (because he was tired, hungry, bored, or whatever), HOB would leap out from her hiding place and say: “I’m pretty hot in this snowsuit, mommy.” Did I mention that sometimes HOB pretends to speak for the baby? That she can somehow read all infants minds within the first second of laying eyes on them. I’m not sure if she thinks this cute little voice will somehow make what she says less offensive (it doesn’t).
Today was an incredibly warm day up in the Great White North. It was above zero. Arlo and I had to make the five-minute drive to the grocery store. I thought his snowsuit was overkill on a day where most Northerners are practically breaking out the bikinis and sunblock (okay, I’m exaggerating a bit), so I put a warm hoodie sweater on him, put the hood up and dashed out to the car. In the car he was covered in a thick blanket. Then I apparently committed an unthinkable sin by making a mad 2-second dash to the grocery store from the car sans snowsuit.
In the produce section, I was accosted by possibly the most vicious incarnation of HOB I’ve ever encountered. She looked at me with what I can only describe as visceral hatred. I thought she was going to spit in my face if it weren’t for the many witnesses milling about. “That sure is a warm jacket your son has on!” What the fuck? I was so confused, I thought maybe I’d heard wrong. “What was that?” I asked. She repeated herself. I was so taken aback, all I could say was, “Ya. It is.”
This bitch ruined my whole day. I know she shouldn’t have, but she did. I walked around close to tears, heart beating loudly in my ear. And it’s not because I give a shit what she or anyone else thinks of my mothering skills. It’s because I was so mad at myself for not saying something back. For not putting her in her place so that she maybe thinks twice before she’s rude to another perfectly capable mother.
I walked from aisle to aisle replaying my fantasy comeback in my head:
Option 1: I swear, I’m just impossible. Can I get your phone number so I can contact you for your brilliant advice the next time I need to make a parenting decision?
Option 2: I’m sorry. Did I just black out for a minute and ask you for your opinion?
Option 3: What happened to you to make you such a bitter, hateful person? Maybe you need to keep some of your spiteful thoughts to yourself.
And my favorite, Option 4: Mind your own business, you fucking bitch.
Another thing that pisses me off is that Jason was at the mall with Arlo yesterday with the same hoodie on and HOB never ever speaks to him. You know why? Because fathers are just charmingly inept. Now, those horrible mothers. They should know better.
Ah, just writing this down makes me feel better. Do you obsess about your encounters with HOB and replay them over and over again regretting that you did nothing to stick up for yourself? What motivates the HOB? What makes her think she can get away with this shit? And what can you and I do to destroy her and her smarmy ways?
oh wow, I feel your pain. I have numerous encounters with HOB. Particularly when Allie was younger and would take her shoes off on her own all the time in the grocery store. I got a lot of, “oooh, didn’t mommy put shoes on her baby?” and such. Then, I would get even more mad that I didn’t stand up for myself. HOB should be hung up by her toes and attached to a ceiling fan…at full speed. For me, HOB has always been up in the years. It’s never a woman that appears nearly my age, but always an older one. I don’t know. I could go on about this for hours. So I’ll cut it short.
Oooh…that HOB. She usually manifests herself as my mother. I hate that I never tell her off in all the brilliant and witty ways I think of after the fact. I too could go on for hours. I live in the Vancouver area, which is positively balmy compared to the rest of Canada, and so my little man rarely wears his heavy coat…you would think I was positively wretched according to all those HOBS! I *gasp* never buckle him in the car seat with anything bulky either, just put a warm blanket over him after he is buckled. It is safer and easier to buckle him properly that way, but I guess getting certified as a car seat inspector doesn’t give me any credibility…
My personal HOB usually takes the form of the mitten police. The last one to comment on Terrorists lack of mittens got the response. “I was out of Crazy Glue”
How the hell do you keep mittens on a kid who doesn’t want to wear them and is old enough to take them off?
HOB always ruins my day. I try to pretend that I don’t care and remind myself that it non of her damned business, but I always end up obsessing over it all day.
And sadly, HOB is often a close friend of mine who doesn’t really criticize me exactly, but generally responds to my choices with “I would never do that”. Love that.
Wow, I’ve never encountered HOB. But that’s probably because I so rarely go out in public with my children (like, maybe once a month). I like options #2 and #4. That woman was UNBELIEVABLE. (And I say that as someone who just took her son to nursery school with no coat on.)
I have mastered the bitch face. I just look at them like they’re dirt. It makes me feel better if nothing else.
And just remember that to your kids, you can do no wrong. Until they turn into a teenager and then all bets are off.
Oy, that’s so unfair. I’ve never had that happen to me as far as motherhood goes, but other things, and it can upset me all day too. Thos women are like comment trolls on blogs. They have nothing better to do than trash other people to feel better about themselves. I know ignoring them is hard. I usually bite my tongue out of timidity, but if you can manage a biting comment right betweent he eyes, I say go for it. If more people stood up to the HOBs maybe they would just shut up.
Dude, I think I know that bitch! I’ve found that as my children have gotten a little bit older, I get the obnoxious comments less and less. People must think that by now I know what I’m doing, either that or I’m a lost cause. But don’t feel bad about it, I’m glad writing helped.
Here are two short anecdotes to cheer you up: I had Matilda when I was 23. I looked about 16. Many, many HOBs asked me directly how old I was, and then said, “You don’t look old enough to be a mother,” sadly shaking their heads. I even considered tattooing my age on my forehead just to avoid them.
And my favorite story is this: When Matilda was about 2, she was with a friend of mine, on a slightly chilly fall day, and they were heading into the library. A HOB stopped my friend and said, “You really should have dressed her warmer,” then to Matilda, “aren’t you cold, honey?” My friend was caught in the kind of moment you had, not knowing what to say, but Matilda just looked right at the woman and said, “No. I’m fine.” That sure shut her up. Just teach Arlo how to back-talk to HOBs and you’ll be all set.
Sorry this got so long.
Yeah – I’ve encountered the HOB. The all-knowing HOB. My best defence is that being an Amazon – they are generally somewhat intimidated by my physical presence and I make a really good bitch-face. I’m not above physically intimidating the HOB – not at all.
I’m with you Andi….
I SO hear you. I hate when people get all judgy with mom’s. It’s hard enough trying to figure out the right choices and doing your best without the added stress of wondering if you’ll be judged for it.
I have a personal hate on for comments about how my baby needs socks on. (got this a lot in the summer when it was over 20C). And frankly, in all cases…whatever I’ve done with my baby…she’s MY Baby…if you want to put socks (or whatever) on, get your own baby.
Whoa…little ranty there…you’ve inspired me. =)
PS…I do like options 1 and 2 the best.
Please excuse the typo…it’s “moms”. not “mom’s” No judging now! =)
I have no human children but was appalled when a mother commented on how I have my hands full with 3 dogs when her 10 year old was throwing a full out, nonstop, 12/10 temper tantrum in the middle of the street because he didn’t get his way.
Oh, how I loathe the HOB. I’m always really mad at myself for not speaking up too. I think I’m going to have to steal #2. Brilliant!
I’ve had the comment about the snowsuit. We used to keep the Dude in a fleece one piece suit when he was an infant, and then he was wrapped up in the cuddle bag in his car seat. He was plenty warm. The HOB informed me, however, that he was in fact freezing and that I should really get him a proper snowsuit.
Or when I choose to let the Dude have a scant sip of my coffee rather than listen to him scream. Or of Tony’s wine. Sweet Jeebus! We must be child abusers (or filthy Europeans) to let our kid commit such atrocities! Both practices came from the idea that if we let him have a taste (the first time) that he would dislike those things and never ask again. Wrong, mommy. Wrong.
Ooooooh. My blood is boiling for you.
KILL ‘EM WITH KINDNESS. People like that don’t speak the language.
I encountered a HOB (Hateful Old Bastard) the other day in a parking lot. I may have parked a little crooked and HOB said, full of sarcasm, “nice park job”. I smiled and said thank you, C -U – Next- Tuesday. When he was out of sight I joyfully spit on his car! (nothing to do with babies but it confuses people when you say that line and makes you feel good inside)
Ugh! This kind of shit makes me SO mad. I wish HOB could come to our houses and pack for our outings for us. Doesn’t she know that it’s nearly impossible, with all you have to bring along, to remember everything? Does this woman have kids? And if she does, how much money are they spending in therapy? It’s funny you should write this post today. I just took my son for a walk by the lake (it’s 70 degrees here today, Texas is freaky like that), and I didn’t realize how windy it was, and the whole time I worried about how he wasn’t wearing a hat. I worried because I felt like a bad Mom, but I worried more because this particular lake is Mommy central and I was afraid everyone was judging me for taking my newborn out on such a windy day. And this fear came from knowing how fucking judgmental other women are. What’s up with that? Don’t we have a hard enough job as it is. Ugh!
Ohhhhh! I LOVE option two. Use that one! It’s that great sarcastic wit that throws people off, I swear!
Ah yes. The HOB. I’m very familiar with many versions. I’m, too, not good with comebacks, but I’m partial to #4. Also, I like the passive aggressive comeback, that includes a blank stare and/or lots of blinking. After an uncomfortable amount of time say, “what? Did you say something?” This is followed by more blank stare/blinking.
WTF?? Are people really that horrible to Mommies out in the world? (She says still hovered within the protective walls of her own home).
Don’t be angry for not having an instant response. The reason you didn’t is because you are not a hateful evil person…I am willing to bet that the HOBs of the world don’t even have children.
Next time they say something you should say (coming from someone who is in fact an evil person) “I don’t follow you around and criticize you on your lonely existence and how you raise your 12 cats do I?”
Option 4:That sure is an ugly face your wearing Bitch!!! I hate people. Great post!!
My HOB usually appears in the form of my MIL, which makes for delightful family gatherings.
*sigh*
I too play my comebacks in my mind….I wish I were quick enough to say them.
Once when Silas was very wee and we were walking through the park with a friend, he was screaming bloody murder and some old lady came and said “he’s cold” and then grabbed his blanket and shoved it up to his chin and tucked him in. I wanted to freak out but I didn’t have the heart to yell at an old lady. I always get comments when I go out without hats on a sunny day too…it’s like “you try telling my toddler he needs to wear the hat, lets see where that ones gets you”.
My MIL is my own personal HOB. I’ve pretty much learned to deal with her. Every so often I’ll run into a random HOB and they always take me aback. It’s a funny thing because I mostly feel like I do a pretty good job as a mom but for some reason a HOB comment has the ability to totally tear down my self esteem – even if I know that they’re wrong! I think it’s because I really want to be a good parent and any criticism (even from an idiot) is hard to hear.
I like: “Mind your own fucking business!”….or, “You can take your opinion and shove it up your ass!”…..better yet, “Do you even have children, or do you just wish you were as lucky as me?”…..Then go spit on their car, like Larsen suggests. It’s all about the revenge baby!
PS You are a Wonderful Mother – that’s why your kids are so great!
My worst HOB was my MIL. She would be amazed if she was still alive that my children grew up to be such wonderful parents despite the fact that she criticized my parenting skills constantly. So often I used Option 4 under my breath.
That’s horrible. People should just piss off and mind their own business. Wouldn’t it be great if the comebacks were instantaneous and uncensored?
I don’t have too many run-ins with HOBs. I’m a little like bubandpie. I don’t go out too much.
When we do venture out, though, my kid is usually screaming her head off and that kind of drowns out the noise and discourages people from getting too close. lol
What the asshat said in the produce section is so out-of-turn and crazy-like, there’s no way a sensible person would have a quick comeback.
For whatever reason, whenever someone is super-obnoxious like that, I laugh. It’s a horrible quirk. I laugh t them right in front of them, like right in their face–even if their being super-mean to someone else. It’s awful. My husband gets mad but it’s like a reflex. I think it’s like I’m so taken aback that I can’t help but to give an incredulous laugh.
I meant ‘they’re being super mean’ not ‘their.’ It’s late.
ooof.
HOB once asked me if I had any idea what temperature it was when Ben was a toddler in his stroller and not wearing mittens in winter. Every half-block, he’d take them off. And I’d stop, and put them back on. Repeat.
She caught me in the tiny window between off and back on.
Damn her.
Yes, the dreaded HOB. Usually ruins my whole day. B/c of lack of comeback, usually.
Meet the HOB’s in the grocery store most often, but over xmas break — on the airplane! and this time the HOB was a DUDE! A grandpa type asking where Little Man’s socks were! It was FREAKING HOT on that plane.
Funny that his wife, who was talking / playing with LM didn’t say anything before that.
So I said, well, it’s really warm on this plane, and his cheeks were getting red. I had to undress him a bit. But don’t worry! He’ll get all bundled up before we deplane.
That shut him up. Especially since the wife agreed how hot it was on the plane. Fucking jabroni.
That was the only HOB encounter I’ve felt good about. But thinking about it still annoys me.
[...] #4.1.8.08 Those who feel the urge to spew unwanted assvicewill suddenly lose their voice for a period of one week. After this week, if they attempt to give [...]
Just use my DH’s favorite expression for any smartass….:
“If I wanted to hear from an ass, I would have farted.”
That will shut them up real quick I am sure.
I hate the HOB.
I met one at a gas station, where I had left 10 year old step-son and 7 yo step-daughter (who were visiting) in the car with the little ones for all of 2 minutes to run in and pay. (and this is a sore subject for me, and something that I NEVER NEVER do, because I actually got a ticket for it once – about 12 years ago – because some HOBs decided to call the police on me, but since I had the big kids there to watch over them, I went ahead) When I got back, an old biddy was standing by my car to tell me that I shouldn’t leave the children in the car because something could have happened to them. I was so pissed!!!! I looked at her and said “Well, then it’s a good thing that they had you here to watch over them.”
And even though I got my diggs in, I STILL stewed over it all day, and even two years later, I’m getting all worked up over it! LOL!
Other than telling people to mind their own business, which I think that we mothers should do, I favor a “make them feel like shit” approach, perhaps something like: “Gee, thanks so much. You know, it’s hard enough being a mom, and trying to make the right decisions for your child(ren) everyday, without people like you to make us 2nd guess ourselves. Have a great day.”
I think I radiate “Don’t Talk To Me” because I almost never get that. I do remember some old biddy chastising me for having my 3 week old babe out – at the drugstore buying diapers.
Oh, my…. it really sucks that people are that awful… but I had to LOL at Sandy’s DH’s response. I WISH I had the nerve to respond with that one!
I would have handled it the exact same way Andie… I never am able to get off a witty response right away.
Hi! Fist time reader, just here via Le Binky Bitch!
My children are older, so it’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with any HOBs, but they do exist once kids get older, too. They’re just not as social at that stage
But I am the world’s worst when it comes to defending myself. I have no comeback skills whatsoever. And not having a put-em-in-their-place comeback always makes me even madder.
That drives me MAD. Argh.
I have HUGE issues with HOB’s. AND I totally obsess over them because I am normally too shocked to think of anything charming and witty and INCREDIBLY bitchy to say back.
I am so glad it isn’t just me.
Oh that HOB. I’ve had run-ins with her, as well–the one that really sticks in my mind is when an HOB stopped next to where I was sitting on a bench at a local museum to offer up the observation that it was cold outside and my then infant daughter–who was in the middle of nursing–wasn’t wearing socks.
You can see this stuck with me, since I still remember it some three years later.
Hugs and sympathy to you…
Ahhh yes the HOBs…I have my own virtual version – the WOMBS (Writers Of Mushy Baby Stories). They only have experience with little bitty babies and toddlers…so they get a little tense when reading about my dealings with The FlyingMonkeys…They found “The Story of Magnuts” particularly disturbing…they are in for a world of shit when their kids get older…
Yeah, I’d definitely go with Option 4. There is nothing worse then the HOB and she needs to be put in her place.
(of course I never seem to have an appropriate comment ready either in this scenarios) *sigh*
Great vent work my friend. I personally am not afraid to say, “Huh, I don’t remember asking your opinion.” but most people aren’t comfortable doing something like that. It’s a gift I guess.
I lurk. I’ve discovered that the HOBs decrease as the children increase. Wait – I mean, as the children’s ages increase.
I encountered an HOB the other day at the library. I was juggling, like, 100 books, my three year old and a very squirmy 16 month old. The 16 month old ran away from me as I was trying to get the 100 books checked out. Ran away, shrieking. Corpse-looking HOB shushed me and my 16 month old repeatedly. I so wish I had told her to shush herself straight to hell.
Usually HOB sees me out with my four kids (6 and under) and says something like, “Wow. You’ve got your hands full.” or “Are they all yours?!?” and my personal favorite, “You just need to have a couple more kids, don’t you?”
I, like you, get most frustrated with my inability to respond to HOB quickly enough and with enough sarcasm to ruin her day as well.
You know how this got linked to on B*bble, and you agreed with the commenter there? I’m that commenter. Fuck this annoys me. It’s not bad enough that the site is full of trendy hipster asshole parents (hemp onesies! I don’t tell lies about Santa! my five-month-old LOVES the Ramones!) but it’s full of apologist nonsense for the HOB. The story about the woman who wants to tell perfect strangers that their kids are autistic completely frosted me. People have to realize that what they see of you with your kids is but a moment in your lives. They don’t know your sockless kid pulled them off a block ago. They don’t know that your whiner is going through a mine-mine-mine phase. They don’t know that your zombie is just shy, okay?!
While I would like to be clever enough to come up with great comebacks off the cuff, my mind inevitably goes to My Blue Heaven:
grocery store guy: Have a nice day, sir!
Steve Martin: Fuck you!
What I usually say: Unnnnhhh.
Hob i love it, people need to learn there own business .NOW
oh, i hate the HOB. i remember when i was pregnant with Zander, all my friends and family started warning me about strangers giving unwanted (and unwarranted!) advice. i just shrugged it off, thinking how bad can it be?
ya…it’s bad. i think the thing i hate the most about the dreaded HOB is that he/she makes me question my parenting skills, and that’s not fair. i’m a good mother to my two boys.
i love your comeback options! you know what you should do? get one of those novelty keychains that have a few buttons on them that say “you’re an asshole”, and other such appropriate phrases. then, instead of think of a comeback, you can just push any button!
hmm….i got one from the It Store a couple of years ago…where’d i put that?
[...] I went to Copyscape out of curiosity and found a blog that has two of my posts. This woman went to the trouble of copying and pasting them, but replaced my child’s [...]
I’ve had more HOB encounters than I care to recount just now. I’m glad I have a nice acronym for them now, however. And my response, when I don’t have an immediate response, is wait until they are a little ways away and squish their tiny heads with my forefinger and thumb. It feels so good and doesn’t leave any marks!!
[...] the ability of small ones to charm strangers (well besides the odd ones who are clearly chaneling HOB). I have a hard time picturing someone walking up to a teenage Arlo, pinching his cheeks and [...]
OMG, I LOVE the HOB idea! We just got home from Target, where my nutso ankle-biters made a charming spectacle of themselves. The 4-yr-old twins went to the BR with their 8-yr-old sister, in my full view while I was checking out with the 3-yr old. They proceeded to screech and laugh and gallop around ala all young children. This wheezy beotch shows up out of nowhere and scolds me in front of everyone. “Shame on you, they could fall or be taken!” Because my oldest is “sensitive”, I resisted a biting comment, rolling my eyes and ignoring her. She then had the audacity to call me an idiot and complain I was ignoring her! I was trying to tell my oldest she was just right in dealing with her sisters while this twit kept scolding us. I just walked away with them. Sticking in my head, I wish I had said something really nasty!
i’ve met HOBs, but the one who scares me the most is OSAB (old, scary-ass bitch). my hubby and i were in the mall with our three week old. OSAB stops my husband mid-stride and asks if she can peek at the baby. hubby says, “yeah, but don’t touch, she’s too young” (score one, hubby!). then OSAB proceeds to gush in a stunningly clear example of why i call her OSAB. “oh, isn’t she cute. ohmygosh, she’s just so adorable. she’s just DELICIOUS. omygosh, omygosh, my mouth is watering”
um…………..if ANY of y’all have a comeback for that one, PLEASE chime in!
@Queen D.
Just say, yea…we were waiting a few more weeks until she is a little fatter, then we were going to have aBBQ with some baby back ribs…
Good one, Sandy!
I actually once had an encounter with a bitchy lady in Target when all three of my kids were under four. My husband was deployed and I was really depressed. Two of the three were howling and this lady came over and starting giving me unwanted advice (for the life of me can’t remember what it was . . ) and I just FLIPPED out, and (get this) attempted to hand her my oldest child, who was 3.5 and who I was carrying. He was all snotty and he was howling and I remember just flipping some kind of switch in my brain and saying to her, “Here. If you think you can do it so much better, then go for it! How about you take him for a couple of hours for me. You look like you’re perfect so I’m sure you can handle it.” and I just stood there kind of thrusting the baby out in front of me. She looked kind of confusing and terrified and then she actually began to APOLOGIZE. (“I didn’t mean . . . I didn’t think . . ) And then she went away!
It works like a charm but you have to be kind of insane to actually do it.