Q. Should you tell a perfect stranger they spent a lot on something?

A. Definitely, people like hearing this.

I have no idea what possessed a pseudonymous stranger on the internet to tweet at me, in reference to a photo in which our stroller was visible, “nice stroller, those aren't cheap!” But the bigger mystery is why I cared. And I cared!

Because I don’t think this was intended to be insulting. To say the person meant well seems a stretch (though I know this is what one must always say, to seem normal in such situations), but it’s not as if they saw the photo and were like, “nice stroller, by the way I am right behind you with an axe.” There are definitely worse things you can say to a person. I can’t imagine they meant much of anything, is both the best and most accurate I cay say about it.

The stroller remark reminded me of a few things. Of the time, not long ago, when a dry cleaner told me my request to have curtains sewn was “too expensive” and I couldn’t figure out what they meant by this. Of a college classmate who, on study abroad in Paris, was aghast that I might buy some clothing while in Paris and I had had an office job all summer (that I would return to part-time once back) and she didn’t work, and damn straight I was going to spend a bit of this on clothing in Paris, which is, I cannot emphasize this enough, Paris.

Telling someone they have paid a lot for something is kind of like a privilege accusation, except not necessarily. Maybe someone is telling you that you’re fancy and should feel ashamed, during times like these, of having so much while others have so little. But there’s also the possibility that you’re telling them they’re overspending, as in that they can’t afford it.

Why? Why tell me that the stroller that we bought in 2018, used for all you know (it was new, though not new when our second kid started using it!), is expensive? Is the concern that I myself wouldn’t know this, about the stroller my husband and I once bought? That someone else is looking at those tweets—and good luck with that, Twitter or X or whatever it is is petering out—and will be like AHA, knew it, Phoebe spent a lot on that stroller, this explains everything?

Why make the remark? What’s the point of it? I’m not mad (maybe a little) but really do want to know.

Meanwhile, while I have bought things in my day that indicate oblivious privilege or financial frivolity, the stroller in question is not one of them. It’s the one everyone not-destitute in these parts has, new or used, because it can do snow drifts and fit more than one child and just generally hold up over years. I regret some purchases and feel ridiculous about others but this? No, it was maybe the most sensible thing I’ve ever bought.

In the moments after I saw this tweet, fuming as I was (I’m LARPing stay-at-home motherhood this week, the daycare being closed, and have to use the stroller-naps unproductively or it’s not a real vacation), I remembered that there are these wheel-having things that cost far more than even the fancy-schmancy stroller, that are not strictly speaking necessary in cities with public transit, and they are called cars and we do not have one. I more specifically remembered thinking, back in 2018, before our older child was born, that it was the rugged stroller that indeed wasn’t cheap, or we would need to get a car.

It’s 2023 now and we still do not have a car. I took this stroller today alone on 80332049723498378 TTC vehicles, and in the most urine-soaked of all subway elevators. But at least someone on the internet thinks I’m posh.