Super Talkie Mom and Why We’re Perfect for Each Other

My husband Greg and I flew to Wichita last Thursday. Our friends Justin and Prema got married Saturday and Greg was in the wedding. The wedding was a lot of fun and we think Justin and Prema will be really happy together.

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We spent most of Thursday traveling. Greg is a great traveling and life companion. It’s strange how much our personalities have melded over the 11 years we’ve been together. We think alike. We often have the same thoughts at the same time.

For example, there was this lady on our flight to Wichita who I will deem Super Talkie Mom. She sat in front of us and actually greeted us as we made our way to our seats.

“Oh hey! You guys were on my last flight!” she smiled, holding her whatever-month-old in her lap. Like we were friends. I offered my best dynamite smile in return, along with a little wave, trying not to reveal my complete social awkwardness (I’m from Massachusetts. We don’t talk to strangers unless it’s absolutely necessary). Super Talkie Mom sat next to two men and proceeded to gab at them the entire flight. Mostly AT them, not necessarily with them.

And you know what? She was perfectly charming. Also very pretty. A real American Sweetheart type. I thought, having recently read and watched Gone Girl, “People would really give a shit if this woman disappeared like the woman in Gone Girl. Everyone would be absolutely torn up over it. Her face would be all over the news.”

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This would be the photo that would surface if I went missing, and absolutely no one would give a shit.

Her seatmates really liked her too. They chatted with her about her baby, swapped stories about their own kids, and enjoyed every last tidbit she shared throughout the entire flight.

But as soon as Super Talkie Mom shared her first story about how little Tommy no longer fit into a 4T and how he’s becoming more and more devious as well as curious lately, both Greg and I turned to each other, rolled our eyes, and just wanted her to shut the fuck up.

Why? Because we’re assholes.

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Yep.

We then learned that Super Talkie Mom HATES living in Kansas and made it very clear from the get-go that she’s from WYOMING, which is so much better. This offended Greg, who was raised in Kansas and knows that there’s fucking NOTHING in Wyoming.

One of the guys then sympathetically asked why Super Talkie Mom preferred Wyoming.

“Oh boy. So many reasons. It was just such a GREAT place to grow up. A lot of hunting, blah blah blah.” Then she told a lighthearted story about how her Dad missed her birthday party once because he was out hunting some big game or whatever. I made a display of rolling my eyes in her direction and then looking at Greg, and he rolled his eyes as well. I put in my ear buds at that point.

As we de-boarded the plane, Super Talkie Mom was shocked that her baby’s stroller wasn’t at the ready as soon as she got off the flight and asked the flight crew where it was. Once she received the stroller from the crew, she rolled it along without putting her toddler in it. The toddler walked along, rolling the stroller with her, and I was like, “why the hell was she making a big deal about the stroller in the first place if she isn’t even going to put her kid into it?”

Sometimes I feel like a psycho when I want to shove a sock in the mouth of someone like Super Talkie Mom. And I realize it’s a me problem that I want to punch Super Talkie Mom in the face for no real reason. But then I share that with Greg, and he gets it. Completely.

And I smile and laugh with him about the lady we find obnoxious and I don’t feel so crazy.

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