Can't run, can't hide: How your blind date knows you're a mom

Dec 26, 2007 7:01 PM by Cait Braeden

Posted in

You want to have a romantic evening out; perhaps recapturing how it once felt -- before you ever had kids -- to be footloose and fancy-free. You've hired a babysitter and dolled yourself up... you're out the door to meet your date and no one would ever suspect that you're a mommy! Or would they?

How he knows you're a mom when...

He spots a Poke'mon sticker stuck to the heel of your shoe.
You say his car is "Like totally awesome, dude."
When the meal comes you tuck in his napkin and begin cutting his meat into bite-size pieces.
You constantly interrupt him to correct his grammar.
You speak in single-syllable words.
He catches you humming the theme to Sesame Street, but you insist it's from an Italian operetta.
Midway through dinner you excuse yourself to go "potty."
You suggest to the Maitre'd that they might want to consider using outlet covers on the light sockets that aren't in use.
You refer to your friends as "Timmy's mom, Jennifer's mom and Ashley's mom."
His favorite band is Savage Garden. Yours is the Washington Middle School Jazz Band.
You urge him to eat all of his vegetables so he can be "big and strong."
You know just a little too much about Pikachu and Charmander.
Your favorite movie is "The Little Mermaid."
Your signature scent seems to be a mixture of inexpensive perfume and Bounce dryer sheets with a hint of Vick's Vapor Rub.
You offer to carry his cell phone in your purse... and you still have room for his briefcase.
He could play Let's Make a Deal with Monty Hall and the contents of your purse.
You seem to hoard the food on your plate as though someone were going grab it at any minute.
He could swear that's a spit ball stuck in your hair.
When he talks about going to the gym, you ask if that is at Randolph High or Lincoln High.
You refuse to turn the car ignition on until he is wearing his seat belt.
Upon being seated at the restaurant, you take away all his sharp silverware.
You thoughtfully fill his water glass... but only half full -- in case he spills.
You make him turn around during the love scenes of the movie.
You turn into a pumpkin at your babysitter's bedtime.
The only restaurant where you are familiar with the menu (and Happy Meal prize) is McDonald's.
You insist on pointing out the moral to every story.
There's a partially-eaten sucker stuck to the back of your coat.
When he kisses you good-night, you spit on a tissue and wipe the lipstick smudge off his cheek.