It seems like everywhere I go around this town I get comments and stares. I get it: there aren’t many families with six young kids, especially living in the middle of a huge city. I hear a lot of you’ve got your hands full! and you must be busy! In general, it is nice to chat with neighbors and passerbys, and my older kids are always so proud to show off the twins and tell people about our family.

Yesterday while walking home from school we passed a construction site. Two guys were taking a break on the sidewalk, smoking cigarettes and laughing with each other. As we approached them, I had a feeling they’d comment on my brood.

“Are all those kids yours?” one guy asked in disbelief.

I didn’t bother to tell him one was still at school. “Yep, all mine,” I replied.

“God bless you, lady,” he said. “If I had all those kids I’d fucking kill myself. Seriously, I’d go to my room, close the door, and pull the trigger. I wouldn’t even bother locking the door. Just shoot my head right off.”

He looked at his friend and they both laughed. I gave him an evil death stare and scurried around the corner with the kids.

It wasn’t his feelings that necessarily stung – kids are a lot of work and not everyone is cut out to be a parent to so many tiny humans. Rather, it was his sheer delight in making such a grand declaration with no regard for the little ears listening to his boisterous commentary. What did my kids think when they heard that a violent death is preferable to their existence?

Rather than dwell on a stranger’s opinion, I chose to let it go. We all have our moments of lapsed judgment, so I might as well give him a break. Maybe he was having a bad day. Maybe his parents were awful to him and he can’t imagine childhood being a delightful time for anyone. Maybe he has a few particularly rotten kids of his own, making him hate the notion of parenthood.

Or, maybe he is just a jerk.