Reality check

Sometimes we all need a reality check of one sort or another.
Sometimes we need a reality check to determine we really are in the global capital of "Everyone is cousins so everyone can parent your kid".
Well check and check.
Today we were waiting for the light to change so we could cross. We would be myself on my bike, Puppy on her leash, and Peach, on the back of the bike.
Unidentified Grandmother We've Never Seen Before arrives to the crossing from behind us, stopping next to Peach. "That's no good. Stop that right now," UGWNSB orders Peach. I twist around to see who has come up from behind to accost my child. UGWNSB is trying to pull Peach's thumb out of her mouth.
UGWNSB is dressed like most Stepford Grandmothers: Her hair is coiffed and covered with a small black straw hat and she's wearing a flowered short-sleeve jacket to match her dress. What doesn't match is the pack of Marlboro sticking out of the jacket pocket. "Stop that thumb-sucking right now."
"You smoke," I point out to UGWNSB. She is yanking harder on Peach's arm, to no avail.
"True," UGWNSB admits.
"Same habit," I tell her.
"Not at all," UGWNSB counters.
"Unresolved need to put something in your mouth," I smile politely. In fact, I'm not particularly anti-smoking. If UGWNSB wants to, her thing. I am, however, virulently against Unidentified Grandmothers grabbing Peach's wrist and trying to yank her thumb out of her mouth.
"Oh no!" UGWNSB is surprised I could make such an error. "Thumb-sucking is much worse! It's going to ruin her teeth."
In the battle for the thumb, Peach 1, UGWNSB 0. Thumb stayed. In the battle not to go on crazed hormonal tirades at strangers, Mommy 1, UGWNSB 0 (for failing to cause said hormonal tirade, hard as she tried).
Tally for traffic light: Temper tantrums by accosted kids = 0. Temper tantrums by moms = 0. Temper tantrums by insulted Unidentified Grandmothers = x (we'll never know because the light mercifully changed).