The Bad Mom

The rainy season has brought us indoors, which means no more breastfeeding in the park. I found that there is one and only one designated space on campus to breastfeed. It’s a small lounge off the woman’s bathroom with two chairs and one table. Every time I go there to feed the baby, I’m stunned to find a baby-less student hiding out using their laptop computer. Whatever, if you don’t like people and don’t mind the sounds and smells of people relieving themselves then that’s your prerogative. What fires me up is how they inconsiderately ignore and neglect to offer the space to me for what the space is intended for. I whip out my boob with what feels like an audience in such an intimate setting and feed my kid with my belongings thrown on the floor.

The other day I was so relieved to find an empty lounge to relax in. Within minutes a woman in a business suit carrying what looked like a laptop bag came barging in. She moved my backpack aside so she could place her bag on the table. Then she has the nerve to ask me to switch chairs with her so she could use the outlet closer to the chair I was sitting in. I shot her my evil facial expression, which I’m told is really scary.

She quickly changed her mind and moved her chair closer to the outlet and closer to me. My heart raced in rage I could blow smoke out of my ears. I took some deep breaths to distract my mouth from screaming at this bitch just when I couldn’t hold it any longer; the woman whipped out both of her breasts and placed them into suction cups she took out of her bag. She looked at me and said, “I have a two month old at home, how old is yours?” Ok, so now I’m the asshole.

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