Lately I’ve been on a quest to make some more mom-friends. So I’ve been handing out my phone number like a 20-something single girl at last call. A few months ago I even exchanged numbers with a mom I met in line at the post office (talk about a meet cute!).  

This morning I packed up William, my politically-correct canvas grocery bags, and my shopping list and set off. My list was neatly divided: Things to Buy at CVS, and Things to Buy at Trader Joe’s. The Trader Joe’s side had the usual grocery stuff. The CVS side listed exactly three things: “bottle brush, toothpaste, and YEAST CREAM.” Yes, yeast cream. But it’s not what you think: every few months my littlest guy gets a nasty diaper rash that needs jock itch cream to knock it down. And this happens to be one of those months. 

So. Quick trip to CVS finished, we are browsing Trader Joe’s, and we run into a mom who looks familiar. Once we figure out how we sort-of know each other, we chat…and it’s magical. Light-hearted, sympathetic…everything you want in a potential mom-friend. But with three kids present between the two of us, eventually the magic gave way to crying (hers) and a hacking coughing fit (mine). She headed to the frozen organic fruit, and I to the hormone-free milk and yogurt. But I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Was she The One? Could this be my next bestie? Are almost-40-year-old women allowed to say ‘bestie?’ I had to take action.

I grabbed my list, flipped it over, and scrawled my contact info on the one tiny bit of available blank space (OF COURSE I recycle old used papers for my shopping lists! OF COURSE this is not because I couldn’t find a single piece of blank paper in the house!). I ripped off my info and headed across the aisles to find my prey. As I approached, I flipped the paper over, curious to see which part of my shopping list was on the back. I hoped it was the “whole wheat flat bread, organic squash, and intriguing-but-not-pretentious-sounding-wine” part. But, as I should have known, there was nothing written there but “bottle brush, toothpaste, and YEAST CREAM.”

I stopped in my tracks. I wanted to believe that it didn’t matter what was written on the back of my contact info, that my potential new friend wouldn’t even look back there. But who was I kidding? I would look back there, if someone handed me their number. And, yes, I suppose “YEAST CREAM” isn’t the most embarrassing thing to have to buy…anti-diarrhea medication, maybe? Condoms, size small, perhaps? But still. YEAST CREAM. Yuck.

I assessed my options. #1) Hunt down another pen (not so easy, damn Bermuda Triangle diaper bag) and cross off the offending item. #2) Abort mission, move on with my life, maybe place one of those “Missed Connections” ads on Craigslist and hope for the best. Or #3), seize the moment and the potential adult conversation in my future, lead with a joke about the YEAST CREAM, and go for it.

I decided to go for it. It’ll be fine! We’re all adults here! Right? RIGHT???

Well, I’m happy to say, it worked. We laughed together about the YEAST CREAM, exchanged numbers, and even went so far as to set a play date for a few days from now.

Which gives me juuuust enough time to try to break my 3-year-old of the habit of yelling “god damage!” every time something doesn’t go his way.