Mud & Mayhem

Shooting My Shot: A Mom Friend Horror Story

Let me start by saying that I used to be cool. Or at least, I think I was? The evidence is fuzzy at this point — buried somewhere under a pile of laundry and the mental load of keeping two toddlers alive — but I’m fairly confident there was a version of me who could walk into a room and hold her own. Funny. Cheeky. Decent at conversation.

That woman was not present at the indoor playground last weekend.

Here’s what happened.

My son started playing with another little boy — same age, same chaotic energy, instant best friends the way only toddlers can be. His mom was nearby. We caught eyes over something ridiculous our kids did and both laughed. We started talking. Kids the same age, similar chaos at home, similar vibes. It was going great.

And then I decided to shoot my shot.

“Hey, this is kind of the weird part — but I’m always looking for cool moms to hang out with. If that’s something you’d be interested in?”

She was not.

To her credit, she was very polite about it. Just smiled, kept chasing her son, and gently let the conversation die. I told myself maybe it was bad timing. Maybe she didn’t hear me properly. Maybe—

So I tried again.

In my defense, I gave it a few minutes. I even gave my kids a five-minute warning first, which honestly felt very composed of me under the circumstances. Then I walked back over and said, “Hey, I know it’s funny — parents never tell each other their names, we only ever talk about our kids. I’m Robyn, it’s really nice to meet you.”

She told me her name. Lovely.

“So yeah, if you ever want to do a playdate, I’d really love that.”

No phone being pulled out. No “oh yes, let me grab your number!” Just a polite smile and the quiet, unmistakable sound of a crash and burn.

I replayed the entire thing on the car ride home — twice — trying to pinpoint exactly where it went sideways. Those lines should have been charming. A little self-aware. Funny, even. They were not. They landed somewhere between awkward and desperate, and I, a grown woman and mother of two, had just been turned down by another mom at an indoor playground.

My husband thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

Apparently this is karma. He spent his teenage years nervously asking girls for their numbers and I, his loving wife, apparently laughed. And now here I am — decades later — fully understanding that particular brand of humiliation.

The real kicker? He now gives me a little pep talk every time I leave the house for a park or playdate. “Don’t come on too strong, babe. Play it cool.”

I am being coached on how to make friends. By my husband. In my thirties.

Motherhood really does humble you in ways you never see coming.

Have you ever had a cringe mom moment that still makes you want to disappear? Tell me I’m not alone — drop it in the comments