Protective Mom Here

Okay, so I know that once your child passes the age of 26 they are completely on their own.  Right?  Maybe 10, if they train Pokemon.

Off to see the world!

My daughter needed a ride to a job interview.  She asked me for a lift and I said, “Sure, I don’t work until later and we can make a lunch date out of it.”

(That’s me trying to get as much time with my daughter these days as possible.  She’s 27 and where have all the years gone?)

This is how it went:

I picked her up and drove her to a seedier part of town on the east side where there are a bunch of little businesses that all look the same in these commercially developed business complexes.  I drove down a rarely used small side street and there was a sign on the door that read, “So-And-So Business.” (Not the real name.)

I was slightly leery, but she was bright-eyed and ready for a new experience and interview.  She looked gorgeous and I told her so as she left my car, “You’ll do great hon!  I love you.”

She returned the sentiment, gave a thumbs up, and smiled with that gorgeously large smile of hers, and departed my car to enter the small door of the very nondescript business.

Maybe three minutes pass and I see in my rear-view mirror her walking along the sidewalk with an older man (maybe nearing 70?) and he takes her to this back alley where most of the businesses have deliveries.

This, obviously, makes me feel much more leery.

I jump out of my car, but trying not to be too obvious since I don’t want to embarrass my daughter.  I look around the corner and see her walking down the alley chatting with the older man and I think, well maybe he’s just taking her on a tour of the back area?

But, he comes walking back out from the alley maybe only a few minutes later alone?!


All these thoughts ran through my mind.  He’s just some strange old guy.  I don’t know him.  My daughter is really petite and easy to hoist into a nefarious location.

He looked over at me staring at him walking back to his nondescript business, smiled (and I’m thinking dastardly so much so, if he had a handlebar mustache he would have been twirling it), and walked back into the door of his business.

I think, “Okay, my daughter will be very embarrassed if I rush in and demand he tell me where my daughter is.  She would tell me she’s old enough to do things on her own.  Like an adult or something.

Instead, I start up my car and drive around the alley and around the complex looking to see if I can find her.  She’s nowhere to be seen.

I go back, park, and try to keep calm.  This is a job interview and there is a reasonable explanation.  Right?

I sit there for maybe 15 minutes.  I might have texted and called her a few times… yeesh.  With various messages like, “Where are you?  Where did that old guy take you?  Are you okay?  I don’t like the way that man looks.  Oh my gosh, are you okay hon?!”

You know… reasonable texts and such.

So, I finally – after 20 minutes – walk into the small door and the old gentleman is there.  I say, “Hi, my daughter came here for a job interview and then I saw her walking somewhere else… with you.”

And inside I am ready to punch him in the face and force him to tell me where my daughter is and get all Liam Neeson on him.  But, I remain very calm.

He politely introduces himself as Dr. Something-or-Other that I don’t give a rat’s *%&%*$* about.

He shakes my hand and is very grandfatherly and I’m thinking, “Eh, maybe he isn’t so bad and I might have overreacted a wee bit.”

He graciously tells me that my daughter went to the wrong door and she had to interview at the retail shop around the corner with his wife, D-Something-or-Other.  He walked her over and I could easily get there if I just drive this way, and then he pointed out where I needed to go in my car to meet my daughter.

I told him thank you and left.

Now, I may have jumped to some far-fetched conclusions, but she’s very small and cute and you just never know… you know?

Anyway, I drove around and went to the retail shop and was going to simply park outside and wait for my daughter.  That’s probably what a normal mom would do.

But I happen to be a very neurotic and over-protective mom and why follow the crowd?

So, I got out of my car and walked inside the shop.  It was a music store and so that was cool.  I asked if they sold guitars because I only saw band instruments, and they said no.  I then said, “WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER?!?!?!?!”

No, just kidding.

I told them I was picking up my daughter and she was in the back with a D-Something-or-Other…?  Had they happened to see her…?  Go back there…?  With D-Something-or-Other…?

They said, “Oh yeah, we know D-Something-or-Other.  Your daughter is back here.  Want us to tell her you’re out here waiting?”

I know deep down that if they do that my daughter will be all kinds of embarrassed that at her adult-y age I am waiting for her outside.  “Your mom came to pick you up!”  I know this is like so embarrassing, but I say, “Sure.”

And that’s what they did.

Later, my daughter told me the woman was surprised, and yet she still gave her the job.  So, that’s a good thing.

And then she told me that I should trust she is old enough to go on interviews and know what to do.  And, she wished she would have rearranged the interview on a day she had the car.  And, that it was weird the guy came to the back and said, “Your mom is waiting for you out there.”  And, she kind of went on and on, and then found my voice message.  “Seriously mom?  You even called me?”

She then played it back and I laughed.  It was a bit frantic sounding.  It might have been a bit overboard.

And then, she told me she felt like she was back in high school, and… we both kind of laughed at me being me.

Yeah, I’m a special kind of mom.

But she eventually said, “Thanks.  I know you were just concerned, and I appreciate you taking me to this interview.”

“I will always help you when you need it, hon.”

“I know mom.”

We grabbed a quick lunch and then I dropped her off at her place.  She gave me a big hug and it was overall, a nice mom and daughter time.


She really has grown up into such a lovely young woman and I am very proud of her.











2 thoughts on “Protective Mom Here

  1. This was so refreshing to read! Thank you so much for sharing your crazy, neurotic, “that kind of mom” thoughts! My kids aren’t that old yet but I already share these thoughts haha

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s