Elephant in the Elevator

Recently, while taking one of my kids for an annual check-up, we rode up the elevator with a man holding a baby in a carrier. We "ooo-ed" and "ahhhh-ed" at her, before the man burst out: "O.K. Lets just dispense with the elephant in the room: I'm her grandfather, and they call me dad."

All this happened between the 1st and 3rd floors. I left the elevator, still unsure if he was the father or the grandfather - and I didn't care. I just thought the baby was cute. I'd hardly looked at this guy!

But it left me thinking of all the elephants in the room that parents THINK others see. I can certainly get absorbed with them. Little ones ("Why can't that mom ever brush her daughters' hair?) and big ones, too ("That mom clearly has no clue what she's doing...").

Maybe it would help to just dispense with it and shout out loud, like the guy in the elevator: "Honestly, I'm doing my best!" or "You have no idea what it took to get my kids out the door this morning!"

But really, it reminds me how easy it is to get caught up in our own worlds. Maybe people think the tangled hair is cute. Or my cloud of parental chaos might just make people laugh, or run, or reflect on their own freedom. Anyway, I recognize that I choose my elephants. And it's likely that as my circumstances change, rather than fade away, they'll just call for replacements.