However, my friends ended up having to go out of town unexpectedly about half an hour after I got there. So I was left at loose ends for the rest of the day until I could collect Emma. Not exactly how I would choose to spend Christmas Eve, but oh well.
I ended up going to TriCities and spending most of the day at a park along the Columbia River. While I was there someone told me that I had a tail light out, so after my walk I went and got a new bulb and installed it right there in the parking lot. While I was working, a man and his young son, probably about 5 years old, walked up to their big pickup parked next to me. It was a manly-man truck: lift kit, big tires, spotlights, gun rack, dangly bits hanging from the trailer hitch, the whole nine yards. They were both dressed in camo. Manly men, don't you know.
The little boy was very interested in what I was doing. He looked at me, standing there with my socket wrench in hand, the tail light assembly of my car hanging by its wires, and asked what I was doing. I told him that one of my lightbulbs was burned out and I was replacing it so I would be safe while I was driving.
He watched until I was done (it doesn't take long to replace a bulb), looking me over carefully. Then he turned to his dad and said "Well that's something you don't see every day. She's using tools! Her fingernail polish is fancier than Mom's and she's getting her hands all dirty. Why doesn't she have her MAN do that?" (Emphasis was his.)
Without even thinking, I responded "I don't need a man to do this for me. I can handle it by myself, and my hands are washable. You should know better than to say something like that about girls."
The boy looked at me in surprise, the dad looked at me in anger, and they left in their manly-man truck. I probably shouldn't have said that to a stranger's child, but it made me so mad!
I am perfectly capable of doing most things that need to be done. Even if I do have fancy fingernail polish. Ugh. People are so... ugh.