Rebecca Eckler

Poor, poor me. It’s so hard to be a single mother (tiny violinists please!)

But, as someone who ALWAYS looks at the glass-half-full (hee hee, right!) I realized there are instances when being a single mother can be beneficial.

It’s kind of like being pregnant. You may not like it, but other people sure do treat you better. (Oh, those days when people held the doors open, and let you cut in line at public bathrooms.)

Last week, I stood up and suddenly felt a throbbing pain in my foot. I looked at the bottom of my foot and saw a sliver. There was no way I could get it out (I can barely cut my daughter’s fingernails, I’m so scared.)

My parents, who are my in-case-of-emergencies, were at the cottage. My brother lives an hour away. That instant, I realized, I’m all alone! (Cue tiny violinists again.)

Now, I’m not sure what would be different if I had a husband. It’s not like I would trust my ex to take out the sliver. But at least I would have someone who would want to try to take it out, in theory, or tell me what I should do. Well, he’d at least look at it.

I called my best girlfriend, who has a handful of children and would definitely know what to do with a sliver. She was across town, but said she’d come over first thing in the morning. It would have to do. (That, or go to a walk-in clinic.)

That evening was an open house at my daughter’s day camp. I limped through the camp buildings when I saw a room with a dozen cots with superhero sheets. Bingo! It was the camp infirmary.

“Hi. This is really, really embarrassing, “ I started. “But I’m a single mother and my parents are out of town and I can’t take out this sliver and it’s really hurting.” (Should I fake tears?) It was an Oscar-worthy performance.

“I’ll do that for you,” said the super nice nurse. How can you turn down a single mother with a painful sliver? Exactly.

(I’m going to forget the part when she said, “Are you Rebecca Eckler? I recognize you from your photos.”  Why, oh why, can’t people recognize me when I’m shopping at Prada, as opposed to crying over a sliver at a day camp?)

Ten minutes later, the sliver was out. (It was really deep. Even if I did have a husband, there was no way anyone but a professional could have done it.)

Like being pregnant, I don’t imagine that I’m going to be a single mother forever. I figure I should use it for all it’s worth.

If I’m late, well, I’m a single mother. I need help carrying the groceries? Well, I’m a single mother. I forget to pack suntan lotion? Well, I’m a single mother. I’m too lazy to go to the gym? Well, I AM a single mother.

Thank you. Thank you very much. I’d like to thank the Academy.