Friday, April 18, 2008
Yes sweetie, there are monsters.
To the woman who took it upon herself to lash out at my son as he first tried to show her to a table in the corner frozen yogurt shoppe:
I'm not sitting there; it's dirty.
then attempted some friendly chit chat:
him: You look like someone from a movie!
her: Go away. I'm serious. Go away NOW. Stop bothering me. I don't want to be bothered by naughty little boys.
then to me: Get your boy away from me.
I suggest you cultivate a hobby other than being rude to little children, before you eventually push a parent past anger and pity into something far more dangerous. (Blogging not being quite what I had in mind, but 'twil suffice for now.)
Putting a good face on this in the aftermath involved an abundance of false enthusiasm over the "thrill" of meeting one's first really rude person, discussion about chronic unhappiness, unpacking of karma-meets-Galatians ("As ye sow," etc.), and ultimately a conveyor-belt sushi free-for-all.
All of which had Tyler wondering if his BabyPlays concertina might help ("Maybe she needs some beautiful music?"), or if she had been in a war. Though I'm somewhat less inclined to excuse the bad behavior of one able to snack on frozen treats with Reese's toppings on a sunny afternoon in Newport Beach . . . I kept these thoughts to myself.
Unless otherwise expressly stated, all original material of whatever nature created by Denise M. Howell and included in the Bag and Baggage weblog and any related pages, including the weblog's archives, is licensed under a Creative Commons License.