Staying out of it

It’s a fine line, staying out of a playdate while not being a total bitch. I try to cultivate an aloof yet kindly air, like a haughty mother camel who can’t be bothered to sit on the floor and play “jungle explorers” but who would of course get up from her desk and get you a juice box and some oreos, and who also of course doesn’t mind if you use every pillow in the house plus her precious hand-grown-from-pit-and-toothpicks avocado tree to construct a Jungle Cave, even when she is still pretty much dying of bronchitis and gulping down quarts of gross-o-lyptus herbal tea.

Without ever snapping “For god’s sake quit bothering me” … and… without getting so into their game that the other kids start to be your friend and not your kids’ friend, because even when sick and trying to work, it’s sort of tempting to put on a headlamp, grab a voltmeter, and become a Jungle Explorer.

It’s all about establishing boundaries!

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