The “Hot Mom” on Vacation

When I was growing up, my parents used to take my sister and me on a beach vacation every year, and we pretty much always went to this one hotel in Mallorca. We liked it largely because it was so kid-friendly. It was one of those hotels which had an entertainment team organising activities for the kids every day, and shows every night. My sister and I used to really admire the entertainers. Actually I still do, but for different reasons. How the fuck are they so damn cheery all the time?! Like, they aren’t just that slightly irritating type of person who is perpetually optimistic, or is just genuinely enjoying life, or even the type who is…not much of a thinker, so never really worries much. No, these guys have to be so infectiously cheerful that every guest at the hotel is duped into thinking they are having a way better time than they actually are. These guys have to be ON all the time, day in, day out, for months……How?! I leave the house to go to the store and am irritated before I even walk out the door by all the people I haven’t actually met yet. I walk down the street on my way to work and by the time I get there I’m in a seething rage because that asshole walked too slowly and DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME DOWN A NARROW ROAD THE WHOLE WAY FROM THE BUS STOP AND I COULDN’T OVERTAKE HIM BECAUSE HE HAD HIS FUCKING DR DRE BEATS HEADPHONES FROM FUCKING 2010 OVER HIS DAMN EARS AND I DIDN’T WANT TO TOUCH HIM BECAUSE APPARENTLY HE LITERALLY BATHED IN “UNFORGIVABLE” BY PDIDDY THIS MORNING AND I DON’T WANT IT TO WIPE OFF ON ME!!!! I’VE BEEN DOWNWIND OF YOU FOR FIVE MINUTES AND ALREADY I’M HAVING AN ASTHMA ATTACK WTF DUDE!!!!!

Anyway. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted. By myself. I have absolutely no clue how these people do it. All I can say is: I want 10 of whatever they’re taking.

Obviously I’m not the only one who admires the “Star Friends” (isn’t that fucking adorable). As I said, these guys are paid to make people like them and want to be part of the FUN. Some people, it seems, get a little more into it than others. These people are usually self-proclaimed “hot moms”. You know the type. Usually in their 30s, decently good-looking, with a small, “cutely” dressed (and accessorised) child or two hanging off their arms, often found wearing long, billowy skirts and no bra, so they can float (and flap) around looking relaxed and free-spirited all the time. Until night-time that is, when the uncomfortably high heels and embarrassingly revealing clothes come out. And one or two glasses of rose down, she’ll do a (public) private dance for her husband to remind him (and everybody at the neighbouring tables) how sexy and desirable she still is (How DOES she do it? Juggling two kids AND a husband, and she’s so relaxed and STILL HOT! WOW! What a woman! GIRL, even, she looks so youthful! Some people really DO have it all, huh?).

Personally, I love this kind of person. From a distance. And only just within earshot.

When my dad and I decided to take my daughter back to the same hotel we used to go to this year, we had the pleasure of encountering one such “hot mom”. We first saw her one night at one of the shows. She sauntered in wearing a little peach crop-top, a tiny black leather skirt, RIDICULOUS heels, no bra (obviously), and an infuriating expression of smug superiority. This woman positively RADIATED self-satisfaction, her eyes constantly darting between literally any reflective surface and the eyes of everybody else in the room, to check they were watching.

“Oh good” I thought. “This will be fun.” And I was right.

The performance went by pretty uneventfully, until the end, when they invited the audience to come up on stage for “The Dance”. If you’ve ever been to one of these hotels, you’ll know that they always have “The Dance”: a simple choreography to whatever catchy song was a hit that year (99% of the time, it’s “Despacito”). It’s usually only the kids that go, and maybe one or two embarrassed-looking parent, being dragged along by their shy, but enthusiastic child.

Well, the entertainer with the mic had barely finished his sentence when he turned to discover the Hot Mom was standing directly behind him, front and centre, ready to go. How the hell did she get up there that fast?! Was she a wizard?? Had her desperate need for attention given her superhuman speed?? Had she secretly had some kind of trap door installed to ensure she’d get the most visible spot?? Who can say? But she was ready, and this was happening. This was her moment, you could see it in her eyes, the look of self-adoration now mingled with the kind of aggressive determination I had only ever seen in Olympic athletes right before a race. She had her two children carefully positioned on either side (but definitely not in front) of her, the boy’s hair gelled to perfection, the little girl with an adorable flower in hers. The music started, and she was off, hips gyrating with such gusto she was in danger of knocking one of her kids off the stage. But it didn’t matter, she just stepped in front of them. Nothing was going to slow her down. She hadn’t learnt EVERY STEP of the choreography just to be slowed down by dead weight. After about a minute, it was clear both kids didn’t want to be there. They started tugging at her skirt and trying to pull her off stage. She responded by flapping her arms at them in frustration, alternating between apparently yelling at them and trying to keep up with the routine.

“For god’s sake, Mason! Just do the dance like we practiced! It’s not that hard! Stop ruining this for me! India, get off my foot, you’re slowing me down!”

The kids left, leaving the Hot Mom to shine in all her glory. She could see the admiration in her adoring audience, all eyes on her, wondering at her skill and beauty. All those Zumba classes really paid off! She started adding her own little twist to each of the moves (give the audience what they want, right? 😉 ). A little shimmy on the side step, an extra spin on the turn, an lil pop of the hip on the beat. God she was good! Her feet may be bleeding from the shoes, her face may be sweating, breasts in serious danger of falling out of her top, but it was worth it! And the audience would agree with her! Just listen to that applause! All for her! As the music died down, she smiled graciously, chest heaving, nodding in acknowledgement of the audience’s appreciation. She bowed, and began high-fiving the entertainers as everybody left the stage. On the way back to her seat, she bumped into her two children, and hugged them loudly, recognising instantly how proud they must be to have such an awesome mother. She swaggered back to her seat, smiling and nodding at her audience, nay, FANS, and bent down to kiss her adoring and VERY LUCKY husband.

He looked tired.

All in all, I think that was the best performance that had ever graced that stage. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. Thank you, Hot Mom. <3


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