By Sylvia Sabes
A happy dad—just don't ask his name!
“Hello,” I said with a bright smile. “I am M's mom. She is so thrilled
your daughter invited her to the birthday party. She'll be very happy
to join you. Oh, my name is Sylvia.” I rattled this off to the other
mother in my nearly fluent French, my hand out, ready to shake.
“Oh, very well” was the rather dry response. The rejection hit me like a cold shower. Whatever had I done to offend this woman that she wouldn't even tell me her name? Our daughters were seven, went to school together and spent most of their afternoons at the playground with each other. The mom had a full-time job, so our paths rarely crossed. I could not for the life of me figure out what I had done wrong. >> Read more
