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May. 10th, 2008 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaOMFG this is the kind of day I'm having:
Alex and I went to the Baltimore Folk Music Society's family dance, as we have done a few times before. The caller was not as great as usual, but we still had a good time. Alex mostly shadowed me - we held hands and acted as one dancer together - but when she got tired I scooped her up and carried her on my hip.
After an hour or so, her interest flagged and we were both more seriously tired. (We had our second OWL overnight last night, which pretty much used up my week's supply of energy.) I sat down on a bench and began to gather our things.
When she saw us getting ready to leave, a middle-aged woman I don't know came over to us.
"You were amazing with her-"
I gave a parental smile-and-shrug. It is tricky to steer a three-year-old through a contra-style dance.
"-the way you were holding her-"
Alex is thin and light for her size, but I can see how someone might think it's impressive to dance while carrying a 28-pound weight. I'm used to carrying her, though, so it's no big deal.
"-even though you have something wrong yourself."
I froze. Looked fixedly at her and raised my eyebrows in reproof. She didn't seem to notice. She gestured at my right arm, as if I might not have taken her meaning.[1]
"I mean, for you to be able to dance like that-"
I arched my back slightly, keeping the rest of my body stiff with outrage, looked up at her through the tops of my glasses, and gave her Raised Eyebrows of Doom.
My Eyebrows of Doom apparently need recalibrating. Because I watched, spellbound, as her hand came out. Pat. Pat.
She patted me on the head.
No, really. She literally did. I'm not exaggerating for humorous effect or being metaphorical. She patted me on the fucking head.
"I didn't even know there was anything wrong with you!" she said benevolently, as if conferring praise.
"There isn't anything wrong with me," I said coldly. "I'm a very experienced English Country dancer. I've been dancing for years." I took Alex by the hand and we swept out of the room while she uttered little exclamations of protest and surprise.
I just... wow. Wow. She... wow.
I know that I should use this kind of situation as an opportunity to educate, but I was quite literally struck speechless. I mean... I mean... okay, where do you even start with someone who, head patting?
[1] For those of you who don't know, my right arm is about half as long as my left, the elbow doesn't bend, the shoulder has limited mobility, and the hand is four-fingered and slightly smaller.
Alex and I went to the Baltimore Folk Music Society's family dance, as we have done a few times before. The caller was not as great as usual, but we still had a good time. Alex mostly shadowed me - we held hands and acted as one dancer together - but when she got tired I scooped her up and carried her on my hip.
After an hour or so, her interest flagged and we were both more seriously tired. (We had our second OWL overnight last night, which pretty much used up my week's supply of energy.) I sat down on a bench and began to gather our things.
When she saw us getting ready to leave, a middle-aged woman I don't know came over to us.
"You were amazing with her-"
I gave a parental smile-and-shrug. It is tricky to steer a three-year-old through a contra-style dance.
"-the way you were holding her-"
Alex is thin and light for her size, but I can see how someone might think it's impressive to dance while carrying a 28-pound weight. I'm used to carrying her, though, so it's no big deal.
"-even though you have something wrong yourself."
I froze. Looked fixedly at her and raised my eyebrows in reproof. She didn't seem to notice. She gestured at my right arm, as if I might not have taken her meaning.[1]
"I mean, for you to be able to dance like that-"
I arched my back slightly, keeping the rest of my body stiff with outrage, looked up at her through the tops of my glasses, and gave her Raised Eyebrows of Doom.
My Eyebrows of Doom apparently need recalibrating. Because I watched, spellbound, as her hand came out. Pat. Pat.
She patted me on the head.
No, really. She literally did. I'm not exaggerating for humorous effect or being metaphorical. She patted me on the fucking head.
"I didn't even know there was anything wrong with you!" she said benevolently, as if conferring praise.
"There isn't anything wrong with me," I said coldly. "I'm a very experienced English Country dancer. I've been dancing for years." I took Alex by the hand and we swept out of the room while she uttered little exclamations of protest and surprise.
I just... wow. Wow. She... wow.
I know that I should use this kind of situation as an opportunity to educate, but I was quite literally struck speechless. I mean... I mean... okay, where do you even start with someone who, head patting?
[1] For those of you who don't know, my right arm is about half as long as my left, the elbow doesn't bend, the shoulder has limited mobility, and the hand is four-fingered and slightly smaller.
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Date: 2008-05-11 12:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-11 02:12 am (UTC)Complaining would make it into a problem with the dance, rather than a problem with this idiot. I don't want to do that.