Are you sure you’re not my long lost brother? In my family it was “dad, Pleaaaase, no more lectures! Can’t you just beat us like the other parents do”?
You too? For years, I was convinced it was a real curse word.
I’ll never forget the time when I was six years old and we were at Mass, and this little boy in front of me was just acting like a total brat, while his mother just smiled indulgently. I was kneeling with my hands folded, which he kept trying to pull apart. His mother just smiled and whispered, “Honey, she’s praying”, over and over again.
Rest assured that couple are receiving their just reward for their lack of parentling skills: they get to live with those kids.
Don’t worry, the Xanax makes sure they don’t really have to parent.
“My doctor switched my birth control pills with Valium. Now I have 23 kids, but I don’t give a shit.”
The best one I’ve ever seen was at the local grocery store. I’m cruising the aisles with my cart and my list when I hear screaming. It gets louder and suddenly two young hellions run past me. They make the turn into the center aisle and head back down the next aisle, sounding like fire engines on crack.
Suddenly, The Voice rings out: “HEY!! YOU LITTLE BRATS SHUT UP!!”
Followed immediately by the outraged cry of The Clueless Parent: “Hey, don’t talk to my kids like that!”
I turn the corner just in time to see a guy and a woman face to face as the guy cuts loose: “Lady, put your apes on a leash and keep them quiet, or we’ll get the store management involved and they will throw the sorry pack of you out of here!”
Woman has apoplectic fit, collects kids and storms out of store. Meanwhile, I high-five the guy.
Thank you, Sublight. I just had an idea how to make a bazillion dollars. Large horse farms have a device called a hot walker. They use 'em to cool down horses after they’ve been working. Now, picture one about ¼ size, towing some strollers.
Don’t do it. You’ll make a mint, sure, but… they’ll install these things at malls and such. And then add music to them. And shortly after that, someone will add clown figures to the hot walker.
At which point, none of the children will be quiet, and it will have all been a huge waste.
You read Jim Butcher books…don’t you?
Sorry, no. The Stupidest Line Ever was from one of the moms at the family shelter I worked at in NYC, when she was faced with us enforcing the shelter’s rules:
“My welfare check pays your salary.”
A few weeks ago my wife bought me a brand new white shirt. She paid $38 for it (I’ve never paid more that $15 for a shirt in my life, but she got it [all together now] on sale! But that’s a rant for another day …)
It’s Friday night. I have just completed a 14 hour-day-from-hell-where-not-one-damn-thing-went-right. My overall mood could rather poorly and inaccurately be described as “testy”. My wife wants to go out to dinner. To prove the point she intentionally did not thaw out anything to fix for dinner. Can’t fight that kinda logic without incurring traumatic personal injuries. So, away we go to the local Chinese Buffet.
(At this point, you may be wondering where I’m headed with this. Remember that patience is a virtue.)
When we arrive, there are about 40 other patrons in the restaurant. We are seated, then go to the buffet to select our chow. Mein. Whatever. It’s a buffet. Pick what you want.
All is quiet on this Western Front when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Mama and Papa and eight miniature little dears. They are promptly shown to a table, and off to the buffet they go. But there seems to be a problem. One of the little dears (approx. 8 yrs. old) is proclaiming that his preference would not be Chinese, but rather Micky D’s. He did this in a voice that would drown out the air horn on my semi. The mines in this area require hearing protection around anything that loud.
To further drive home the extent of his displeasure, Our Hero proceeds to throw a hissy fit. Actually, a full blown temper tantrum. Complete with the lying upon his belly pounding the floor with is fists, kicking the floor with his legs and screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. But, alas, to no avail. Mama and Papa indulge themselves in their meal, blissfully unaware of this scene.
The Human Parents in the restaurant gaze in wonderment (read: disgust) at Mama and Papa, in the sure and certain hope that they (the crowd) are about to see blood. (You know how rubber-neckers are!) But neigh, no light from yonder windows to the soul seems to be forthcoming.
Apparently also aware of this total lack of attention, Junior decides on a new course of action. Plate full of food in hand, he demonstrates to parental units that he will, in fact, not partake of this foreign cuisine, and in a demonstration that would make John Elwood extremely jealous, passes his plate to another patron in the restaurant. (Perfect pass! Hit his target right in the chest! The Crowd Roars!)
Seems this patron was a perfect target. Some jerk who was foolishly wearing a brand new, overpriced, brilliantly white shirt that stood out like a neon sign on a dark and stormy night.
Assuming that this pass was made to the wrong team member, I immediately handed off the plate to Papa. From 30 feet. Despite the fact that my wife was attempting a blitz.
Whistles blow. Flags are thrown. Much unpleasantness then ensued. Officials are called in for a ruling. Was this, in fact, an illegal forward pass, or merely a cunning lateral?
Eventually, a man with a badge and gun appeared and demanded to know who had thrown this plate at Papa.
I stood. Defiant. Covered with sweet and sour pork and long grain white rice (and several other items. It was a buffet, remember?). Ready to plead guilty. And self-defense. And insanity (I really am a crazy old fart!).
And in a scene reminiscent of Sparacus, every patron in the restaurant who had witnessed this event, along with two servers, and the restaurant owner/manager, stood, each in their own turn, saying:
“I did.”
Brought tears to this ol’ man’s eyes, it did.
My wife, on the other hand, and despite sharp blows to the ribs by a near-by elbow, simply would not stop giggling.
After a few minutes of this, neither could the Officer.
I left a rather large tip that night, despite the owner offering to give us our meal “on ze louse”.
Lucy
P.S.: Before you ask - The charges: Disturbing the Peace, Attempted Assault on a Peace Officer During the Performance of His Duty, Interfering With a Peace Officer During the Performance of His Duty, Failure to Supervise a Minor Under the Age of 12, Assault on a Minor Under the Age of 12, Destruction of Private Property (See below), Criminal Trespass.
No, not me ---- Papa! When the Officer started giggling, he went ballistic … 
The shirt did not survive. It sacrificed it’s life in vain, though. All this shit didn’t even make it into the local paper. :mad: I would love to be able to doument this with a link! Allass, you’ll just have to take my word for it …
Lucy, as always, thank you for an interesting and well-written account.
It’s so nice to see that Papa got what he deserved.
::sputters in amazement:: Bravo! Bravo!
Sorry for the loss of the shirt. But it had a wild ride during the short life it enjoyed!
And millions of kudos to your dining mates and the restaurant staff for being stand-up guys and gals, coming to your aid like that. Sheesh! How come I can’t ever witness an uppance in the coming like that one? A comeuppance involving thrown objects, messy food and the cops?
Well, the store manager in my OP gave a fairly good public comeuppance, not that the parents actually absorbed any of it. Sounds like in this case Papa might actually think twice before ignoring Junior during a crazy episode in public again.
But probably not. Pfft.
Don’t tell my wife, but I hated the shirt. 
Actually, the whole mess scared the shit out of me. I was pretty certain I was going to jail that night. In the final analysis, I committed an assault.
Truth be known, my aim was off a bit. I was aiming for the kid. Throwing arm just aint what it used to be. Kidding. Just Kidding!
That post was getting way too long so I cut it a little short. Here, for your edification or bemusement, is the rest of the story:
Through post incident inquiries, I have discovered that the officer involved has run into this family many times before, and more specifically, the “kid”. It is the professional opinion of the officer that, if someone does not intervene and remove him from that home, this kid and at least 3 of his siblings will end up in jail for serious offenses before their 18th birthday. (The 10 year old was recently suspended from school for threatening a classmate with an 8" blade. :eek: )
[SIDEBAR]Although the 14 year old seems to be doing okay - I found out yesterday that she goes to school with my eldest grandson. She has a crush on him but is going to have to wait in line. He takes after his ol’ grampa and is running a string of 6 prospective girlfriends right now.*[/SIDEBAR]
His parents have been referred to CPS on four occasions for suspected abuse. Probably headed back for a fifth counciling session after this bit. You may have noted that one of the charges he (Papa) faces is Assault on a Minor Under the Age of 12. If I understand correctly, this is his 3rd time charged, though none before ever went to trial. 'Course this is the first in public with witnesses, so maybe it will go differently this time. One can only hope.
IMNSHO, the unacceptable behavior by children such as what is being related in this tread all hangs on around the parents’ necks. Like far too many parents, they have utterly failed to instill any sense of disipline in any of the kids. I try not to get angry with the kids, but I could easily be (have been?) driven to violence against the parents.
Sad part is, all too often, those who should not be allowed to breed (let alone actually raise children) seem to never figure out the whole birth control gig and continue littering.**
Lucy
**I understand littering is crime in most states. I keep seeing signs next to the highways but they don’t seem to enforce it.
*ETA: I want this to be clear: Grandson is emulating behavior I exhibited in Jr. High. NOT current behavior.
Wow, Lucy, this is some story. A Spartacus moment indeed, what a sight that would be to see.
I am curious though about the charges of assault on a minor, at some point did Papa try to discipline the brat (much too late)?
That’s wonderful!!!
My parents wouldn’t have let me or any other kids in their charge act that way upon entering the store, and we had dared say “Fuck off” to the manager the beat down would have been legendary.
I salute the manger.
Nope.
What this asshole did could not be described as a belated attempt at discipline. More like revenge. Two swift fisted blows to the head with enough force to knock the kid down. :eek:
On the other hand, in his mind, that’s probably exactly what he thought he was doing.
My point is, in a sincere attempt to stop this from becoming a hijack, none of those kids had, at any point in their lives, been exposed to any type of true discipline or training. It kinda relates to what happened with my youngest daughter and her kids. Her mother and I went through the obligatory ‘When I have kids I won’t treat them like you treat me’ period in her teens.
But when she became pregnant with her first child, we sat down and explained to her that she basically had just two short years to teach her child obedience through discipling and create a child that everyone (including her) would love to be around, or a hellion that no one would want to be around and a kid she would fight all her life.
She’s spent the last 4 years try to correct bad behaviors that she not only allowed but actually thought were ‘cute’ when the kids were young. They don’t understand why she’s become so strict all of a sudden.
Worse yet, her youngest can’t understand why she can’t do all the shit her two older siblings got away with.
My daughter has an uphill fight on her hands now, but she is slowly gaining ground. I overheard her talking with her mother a while back - it was one of those ‘great admission’ moments.
“I sure wish I had listened to you and dad back before Ty was born. I really regret that.”
My wife said the only thing she could say; “Just remember that teenagers are like that. Learn from your mistakes, and perhaps, just maybe, everything will work itself out.”
I came in from having a smoke on the back deck and added, “Listen to your mother, but you’ve still got to get a consistent discipline plan together. Your biggest failure is your inconsistancy. You’re headed in the right direction, but there is still much you let the kids get away with that we would have killed you or your sister for. You hated it at the time, but you know what to do - we showed you, you experienced it, and you now know why. End of lecture. Wait. One more thing: Quit smoking. Do as I say, not as I do. Official end of lecture.”
“'Till the next time.”
Lucy
It pisses me off that these parents don’t realize how dangerous it is for their yard apes to run amok in any kind of business.
Example 1: My father works in a hardware store. One fine day a father brings in his lil cutie pie who proceeds to run with wild abandon through the rows of power tools, glass doors and various other sections. Before anyone can tell the father to control beelzebub, the boy runs around a corner into a pegboard, promptly jabbing one of the pegs into his eye socket.
Luckily for the store the parent had enough common sense not to sue and the child did not lose his sight in that eye, but did require stitches for the gaping wound in his face.
Example 2: (Less serious, but could have caused plenty of damage) I worked as a waitress at a restaurant that required us to carry our trays at waist high so if I suddenly came upon something shorter than my waist, I was going to trip. During a particularly busy shift I was preparing to deliver a tray of piping hot food to a table. When I came around the corner of one row of booths I encountered some resistance in the form of a three year old boy who was promptly knocked on his ass and slid backwards some ten feet. The mother who was at a nearby table witnessed the entire thing and came huffing and puffing to retrieve her widdle angel. I looked at her and said, “Now I understand why some animals eat their young.”
The look on her face was well worth the written warning I received.
Good Og! Where’s the camcorder when you need it?
Lucy