Written by Emily
Cosmo quizzes. Please tell me you liked them, too. Nestled between the pages about how to impress a guy and the interview with the latest pre-pubescent heart throb were the gems I anticipated each month. Am I the greatest bff? Do I know when a guy is totally into me? How did they know I desperately wanted to know if my crush was marrying material? Genius. And absolutely inane and silly and terrible. I knew there was something to be embarrassed about because I hid the magazine under the bed as though it were Playboy or Hustler. And it may as well have been. There was more sex talk and body part euphemisms in one issue than on the middle school bus. And I rode the bus with a “mature” crowd…as in one of the riders already had his driver’s license, but driving to middle school was forbidden…so bus it was! Seriously.
I never learned how to tell a guy was into me unless that girl who told another girl who was in my pre-calc class and sent a note in my direction was right. Was that note even for me or did I accidentally intercept it? Relationships are hard. Thankfully, I determined that my crush was marrying material on my own.
Although my reading level has improved, I’m in a stable relationship, and I value my “rents” more than ever, I was craving a throw-back quiz. You probably didn’t realize you were craving one, too, but go ahead, indulge…
Are you giving off the “mom vibe”?You’re hitting up a local coffee house with your mff (mom friend forever, but you know that). She smiles and shares, “don’t look now but there is a seriously cute guy making eyes at you.” You:
a. Disregard her “don’t look now” and give yourself whiplash searching for the guy. You didn’t change out of sweats and resurrect this cardigan out of the dryer for nothing.
b. Know she means the drooling toddler in the high chair, so you don your silliest expression and make eyes right back.
c. Sit up a bit in your seat, so the bags under your eyes stop resting on the table. You consider turning to see who she’s talking about, but think better of it and opt to conserve energy for the inevitable all-nighter ahead.Your pre-schooler’s teacher thanks you for the snack you brought for the class. You think:
a. Why wouldn’t she? I spent hours trolling Pinterest and $53.25 to make those fruit cars with chocolate “gas” dipping sauce. I deserve a medal of honor.
b. Is she being sarcastic? Or does she really appreciate cheese sticks and pretzels, again?
c. I was supposed to bring snack?! She’s shaming me in front of other parents! Does everyone know?You find out from a friend that a mom from your “mom’s group” is having a 3:00 play date at the park near your house. All of your kids’ friends were invited. You:
a. Get the kids out of their pajamas, put some cookies in a bag and take a walk to the park. The invitation was clearly lost between Zulily, Groupon and blog updates.
b. Decide to make this the best day at home ever. You might not be at the play date, but you will mom the heck out of your children until they tell all of their Facebook friends how great their mom. Those “friends” will undoubtedly tell their moms who will obviously feel terrible about themselves (nevermind your kids are 6, 4, and 1).
c. Begin sewing a voodoo doll in the likeness of said mother. You’ve been wanting to start sewing stuffed animals. This will be a perfect first!While your mff is in the bathroom, her baby spits up a pinkish, syrupy goo all over your new blouse. You:
a. Clean up the babe and your blouse in one fluid motion in record time. You’ve been hoping for an opportunity to beat your fastest clean-up time. No harm. No foul. High five!
b. Don’t even notice. New blouse? Please, you haven’t worn a blouse in far too long to remember. And forget clothes shopping. New is out of the question. Next.
c. Wait until your baby is particularly snotty and hand her to your friend, so you can “use the bathroom.” She totally tickled her baby until she was going to spew and passed her off to you. Well, check mate. Your babe is probably contagious.You have to take a 43 minute drive with your little cherubs. They ask again and again, “How much longer?” You respond:
a. “One and half Caillous” or “One and a half Dinosaur Trains.” Actual time is irrelevant.You’ve created your own measures of time that your children understand.
b. with silence. If they ask one more time you might “turn this car around.” And you are not above swatting into the back seat when the whining starts.
c. by turning up the kid tunes. Distraction is the best strategy, and you can probably listen to Raffi one more time before you lose your mind. Probably.Answers:
I’m no expert, and I’m definitely not Judgey McJudginstuff. I’ll spare you any analysis. You’re absolutely giving off the mom vibe. But you knew that already. You like it.