At my favorite Mexican place, lady comes in, pretty, red-haired, with a little three, four year old, red-haired boy, sit down in booth behind me. I'm busy texting and SKMBing and eating, you know, what you do at the Mexican place. She has to take him to the john, as they pass me she's saying something critical to him, embarassing.
They emerge and she stops to chat with good-looking guy she must already know. She sends red to booth behind me and continues chatting. Now she's behind me, too, joking lovingly with red about something and he likes it.
I'm busy texting and SKMBing and the two reds are back up (I catch her eye, she smiles at me. She sees me smile back, but not when I smiled at little red), pay check, leave.
Her SUV is parked next to the window. I guess she's in a hurry. Loading red in the back seat child chair. He doesn't go in right--maybe he's a fighter. She slaps his leg. She gets him in the seat, buckled. She gets herself in her own driver's seat and they leave.
My impression was of a mother who could do without being one. I've never had to be a mother, which is certainly a good thing.