I thought I was being funny.

After a rough week, I was running on sarcasm and caffeine when I saw a woman slumped over a grocery cart, exhausted. Her two young kids were asleep among the groceries. Without thinking, I snapped a photo and posted: “Meanwhile, some moms just give up 🙄 #LazyParenting.” Some laughed, others criticized me. I shrugged it off.
Two days later, karma struck. I cut my hand badly while trying to cook. Panicked, I rushed to the ER, demanding immediate help. The receptionist was indifferent—then I heard a voice behind me. It was her. The “lazy” mom. But now, she was a nurse. With tired but sharp eyes, she told me I’d be seen—just not immediately. I muttered an apology, but she walked away.
As I sat there, pain radiating, I realized how privileged I’d been to demand help while she never got a break. I deleted my post, wrote a real apology, and vowed to be better. Weeks later, we met again. She simply said, “Next time, just ask if someone’s okay.”
Now, I do. Because snapping a photo is easy—but kindness is what truly matters.