Spoiled, Self-Entitled Little Munchkin

Today is my niece’s 3rd birthday party. Over at my sister’s house there’s about 8 other kids over (from day care or family friends and such) and a parent or two for each.

I’m hiding upstairs in the office, because I’ve lately discovered that crowds make me anxious, and crowds of 3-6 year olds make me homicidal.

Anyway, among the guests are my sister’s boss’s mother (who she also kind of works for; my sister is a private chef/estate manager for a stupidcrazyrich guy, and the mom sort of comes with the package) came, along with her grandson (for those paying attention, that’d be my sister’s boss’s sister’s son).

The kids are playing, as kids do, except the boss’s nephew, Munchkin X, has been a terror since he set foot in the house. I’m bad with kids ages, but I’d guess he’s 4 or 5.

Strike that, he was a terror before, as I watched out the window as he was putting up a fight with his grandma refusing to come in, throwing a little tantrum in the street.

When he got inside the house, he started running through every room, opening closets and drawers like he was looking for lost gold. Scolding from grandma.

One of my niece’s presents was a small inflatable bouncehouse thing (basically an inflatable pool minus water, plus plastic balls). While everybody else was preocupied, he got in the thing and started throwing the plastic balls over the fence. He was told to stop. He kept doing it.

Then it was present time. He ran over to the present table to find one for him, and his grandma told him that the presents are all for my niece, since it’s her birthday party.

To say he started crying would be a misuse of the word. He didn’t start crying, he became crying. He embodied the sentiment. He screamed like a japanese girl watching Ringu. He bawled and bawled. He wanted a present. He wanted one NOW.

His grandma took him aside and tried to explain it, but he kept sobbing and saying he wanted a present. He’d feel better if he got a present, he said.

My dad, probably trying to impress the lady (he’s intimidated by rich people, since he used to be one) tried to give the kid a $5 bill to cheer him up. Except a 4 year old doesn’t know wtf $5 is. He doesn’t want $5, he wants some plastic piece of crap wrapped in shiny paper with a bow.

Real nice, I thought, here’s a chance for this spoiled ingrate to learn a lesson that you don’t always get what you want, which is something a child in a very wealthy family could certainly stand to learn, and my dad tries to fix it by whipping out a fiver. Certainly money will solve the problem!

When Munchkin X calmed down a bit, he came back in the room where my niece was opening presents. He ever so slowly edges towards the present table. Like a ninja, he creeps. His eyes are locked on the gifts, all wrapped in flowery or pink wrapping paper or gift bags. When he had creeped suitably close, he grabbed the closest one and tried to dash to freedom. He was caught, of course, and was dragged off screaming by his grandma.

As I type this, I’m watching him out the window being forced into grandma’s car. Finally, after about 19 warnings that they’d be leaving if he didn’t straighten up, they’re leaving.

I feel bad for this kid’s parents, I suppose, but naturally this is all their fault. Kids like him are the reason I can’t let myself be around kids. I fear that if I were alone with him, and he were acting like that, before I left the room there’d be a him-shaped dent in the drywall.

Luckily, the rest of the kids, save the over-excited girls who were mobbing my niece helping her open presents, the rest of the kids here are manageable.

Loud, but manageable.

If I ever have kids, I might get their vocal cords snipped like Paris Hilton’s dog.

The video store I worked for until recently has a huge “family” section. (To picture my boss, picture Baby Huey in a polo shirt. He has the world’s largest collection of Disneyana and spends a vastly disproportionate amount of the budget filling in the gaps in the store’s collection of kids movies. He lives with his mom and has a basement full of electric trains. His laugh is the giggle of a Japanese teenage girl.)

So we’d get LOTS of kids exactly like the one you’re describing. A couple times I had to 86 a customer because of their kids’ behavior.

Once, after a dad finally took his demon-possessed child out of the store, I turned to a co-worker and said, “That’s what plate-glass windows are for.” Then looked up and saw the mom at the register.

Suh. Blime.

Children should be gagged and kept on a leash at least until they turn ten or so.

and then returned to it when they turn thirteen.:wink:

There’s your problem right there. For whatever reason (which to him was both obvious and crucial) he didn’t want to be there, he’s unhappy, and he’s acting out. It has nothing to do with being spoiled - it’s just that the grandmother doesn’t know how to deal with a 4-year-old in a crappy mood.

I’m a father of a 4-year-old, and I’ve been there. You either take him aside until he’s calmed down and is ready to rejoin humanity, or you take him home. Make no mistake: the same thing could have happened with any kid there.

Little kids are erratic. Sometimes they’re angels, sometimes they’re the Beast from Hell. You just have to catch them on a good day.

Not really. I have only rarely seen the behavior described to the degree that it is described. Sounds to me like this kid has never had firm limits established and that he rules the roost at home. I feel sorry for the kid, but 4 is not too young to have learned some rudimentary things such as birthday party gifts are for the birthday child; guests usually get goodie bags to soften the “blow” of not getting a present etc. 4 year olds know how to take turns (they may not always do it or want to, but really, how is that so different from most adults?); they also usually want to please the adults (and other kids) around them.

Grandma should have taken the kid out long before the gift nonsense. Glad it didn’t ruin the whole party for everyone else.

Look at it this way: he’s there against his will and his express wishes. He doesn’t know any of the other kids there, he’s bored, he’s grumpy, he misses his mommy and he’d much rather be at home watching Diego and Yo Gabba Gabba. Wouldn’t you act exactly the same way if you were in his shoes?

My guess is the kid has been raised by a series of nannies and babysitters, and is spoiled by his parents to overcompensate.

Rich people shouldn’t be allowed to have kids.

WC Fields said a when a child is born he should be stuck in a big tube and fed through a hole. When they are 13 ,plug up the hole.

I’d recommend a 9mm with a silencer.

As a mother of a (lovely) 16 year old who was a little monster from 2 and a half till seven, I would say no point blaming the kid. He should have been removed way before that point. The grandmother probably didn’t want to give him the message that if he acted up every time he wants to go home he’ll get his way.

But its not fair to potentially spoil the little girl’s party.

Um, no. He needs to learn how to behave in his peer group; he needs to learn how to mind the adults entrusted to his care and he needs to learn that HIS needs/wants don’t always come first–whatever do the parents do with him when they have to go spend time with elderly relatives? Not make him go? What about doing other boring stuff like chores etc? Bored, grumpy, missing Mommy (how do we know that) does not allow him to embody crying or steal a present. This is an out of control child who needs a PARENT to set some damned limits on him. He should have been whisked out of that party with the complete meltdown, but he needs to also be exposed to Things We Do Because We Have To. IOW, manners. 4 is not too young for manners.

In that situation I would have found a book and a quiet spot to hide in until it was time to leave. Even at that age, I was a nerd. Still, I sympathize with the little terror, if not excuse his behavior.

Maybe the little bastard was holding out for a sawbuck.

Now, see, that’s just wrong.

9 mm is a supersonic round. A silencer won’t do you any good with the damned bullet making a sonic boom every inch it travels. What you need is a .45, which is a larger but slower subsonic round (with plenty of stopping power) that’s much more suited to use with a silenced pistol.

This explains, perhaps, why he was acting that way.

Does it excuse the grandmother’s allowing him to ruin the party?

I fucking hate it when parents think that the rest of the world is willing to participate in the rearing of their children, no questions asked. No: letting your kid cry out his tantrum on the floor of a video store, even if it takes ten minutes, is NOT ok. Take that shit home.

Awfully loyal of you, lissener, considering how you were ultimately treated by that place. In your position, I’d be likely to scout the malls for screaming kids, and tell their parents that a nice video might be just the thing. . . :smiley:

Yah you right. I was just reliving the nightmare.

I don’t care for that kind of comment.

Surely, a kid that small, a .22 would be fine.

Ah, the right thread at the right time. We went out for dinner yesterday, and were treated to watching a young girl (around 7 or so) do everything that everyone hates kids for. When we first sat down, she YELLED at her mom from about five feet away - it made me jump, it was so loud. She wandered throughout the restaurant the entire time they were there, except for the five minutes it took her to have three bites of her dinner. After said three bites were done, it was time for the whole family to go because she was done - back to wandering around the restaurant and loudly complaining about how she wanted to go NOW. Oh, I forgot about the best part - there is a salad bar at this restaurant, and this girl’s mom watched her go over and stick her fingers in the salads without saying a word (and then go on to fingering the toothpicks at the front counter). Actually, this girl did everything without her mom saying a word. It was kind of stunning to watch. There’s no doubt whatsoever why she behaved so badly in a public restaurant - I’m guessing if fingering the salads in a restaurant doesn’t get a scolding, nothing does.