When I go places with my kid, strangers are always happy to see us. There are rare exceptions in the form of mean old ladies who hate moms and kids. Obviously, it’s a tiny minority of old ladies. Most old ladies are amazing. But if there’s going to be a hater, it’s never an old gentleman, a teenager, a 30-year-old, etc. It’s always a 75+ woman. The rest of the people light up like Christmas trees when they see us.
When I go around with 3 kids and people assume they are mine because they are hanging off me like ripe pears, the amount of love from strangers multiplies greatly. It’s actually quite overwhelming. One day, we dressed Klara and her same-age cousin in matching outfits, so everybody assumed they were twins. I’d never felt so loved by the world as when I strutted them around pretending they and the older cousin were mine. And I tend to feel extremely loved by the world normally. It’s an overwhelming feeling.