If you say "Shut up or we're leaving," you better be prepared to follow through. Otherwise, that four-year-old just called your bluff and you're sitting there with a pair of deuces and he's raking in the pot.
Look. Your kids know that unless you plan to follow through on your threats, they have the upper hand. They have an incredible grasp of psychology.
I was trying to cash a check for a man Saturday and his child was literally running around screaming at the top of his lungs. The man kept telling the kid "Behave. I don't know what's wrong with you."
I had problems with the check because he had folded it and gotten it wet, so the check machine was having trouble reading the numbers.
The kid is screaming and yelling and running around and the man never raises his voice going "I need you to behave. I think you're tired. I'm talking to you. I need you to listen to me. Look at me. I'm being serious now. I need you be quiet."
Dude. Seriously. Grab the little howler monkey and put your hand over its mouth.
Or say "I'm sorry, we need to leave, can I get my check back?"
It is your responsibility to make your children behave in public. And if you can't control them at four, how will you control them at 14?
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Stuff your howler back in the cage
If you cannot keep your howler monkey muzzled and on a leash in public, I will whip out my ticket pad and write you a contempt of the Howler Monkey Code ticket on the spot.
Ok. I understand that you feel your troop of womb fruit is entitled to a precious few minutes outside the walls of its cage, where it is usually busy ripping paper, tearing the leaves off branches and flinging poo.
HOWEVER, that does not entitle you to bring the five-strong troop into the Starbucks at 9 a.m. (don't howler monkeys have to go to some sort of monkey school) and inflict the entire out-the-door line of people desperately in need of a double espresso with the sight of your crotchlings making faces at a barista because their tall frappuccinos were not made the way "they wanted them" - all five of them.
Look woman. There is a SYSTEM. You order it. They make it. It is NOT their problem if you are incapable of ordering correctly or if your child suddenly decides she doesn't want a "white" frappuccino at 9 a.m.
One of your little crotchlings pranced up to the bar and snatched her sugar bomb off the counter. She walked four feet back to the FOUR plush armchairs your children had planted themselves in and said "It is WHITE. It's not supposed to be white."
Your other four brats apparently didn't care about color of their 870 calories, but she took it back and repeated what she ordered. They re-made her vanilla creme frappuccino. WHICH IS WHITE. It came right back out white to.
She took this one off the bar, made numerous funny faces at it and prissed back over to her pack. "It's still white," I could her whispering, like it was a conspiracy. And she refused to drink it. Well, you really ought to know what the hell you're ordering.
-- Don't let your howler monkeys run around Starbucks at 9 a.m. No one appreciates them.
-- Teach your howler monkeys to eat what they are given. Better yet, don't give them 870 calories of sugar-bomb at 9 a.m.
-- If you got five howlers loaded up in the car, do the drive-thru!
Ok. I understand that you feel your troop of womb fruit is entitled to a precious few minutes outside the walls of its cage, where it is usually busy ripping paper, tearing the leaves off branches and flinging poo.
HOWEVER, that does not entitle you to bring the five-strong troop into the Starbucks at 9 a.m. (don't howler monkeys have to go to some sort of monkey school) and inflict the entire out-the-door line of people desperately in need of a double espresso with the sight of your crotchlings making faces at a barista because their tall frappuccinos were not made the way "they wanted them" - all five of them.
Look woman. There is a SYSTEM. You order it. They make it. It is NOT their problem if you are incapable of ordering correctly or if your child suddenly decides she doesn't want a "white" frappuccino at 9 a.m.
One of your little crotchlings pranced up to the bar and snatched her sugar bomb off the counter. She walked four feet back to the FOUR plush armchairs your children had planted themselves in and said "It is WHITE. It's not supposed to be white."
Your other four brats apparently didn't care about color of their 870 calories, but she took it back and repeated what she ordered. They re-made her vanilla creme frappuccino. WHICH IS WHITE. It came right back out white to.
She took this one off the bar, made numerous funny faces at it and prissed back over to her pack. "It's still white," I could her whispering, like it was a conspiracy. And she refused to drink it. Well, you really ought to know what the hell you're ordering.
-- Don't let your howler monkeys run around Starbucks at 9 a.m. No one appreciates them.
-- Teach your howler monkeys to eat what they are given. Better yet, don't give them 870 calories of sugar-bomb at 9 a.m.
-- If you got five howlers loaded up in the car, do the drive-thru!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Dangerous Howlers Within
If you see a CAUTION sign, please restrain your howler. It will NOT be our fault if your vagina fruit becomes incapacitated or otherwise dies because you are stupid.
A bottle of pool chemicals managed to burst open Sunday. We put out the orange caution cones and liberally applied paper towels to staunch the flow of "trip and fall" accidents. We call maintenance, but they have to finish a clogged toilet.
While I'm helping customers, I see a woman put her child down - TO PLAY ON THE MOUND of paper towels with chemical fumes rising from it!
I start asking "Is that your son?" When I get a yes, I look right at her and go "Ma'am, those are chemicals. Bleach and pool chemicals. We have caution cones and maintenance is on the way. I really need you to please ask your little boy to come away from there."
She gives me the evil eye and goes "Well I guess you better come here then Billy." She holds him for a minute then he wriggles down and tries to run right back to start jumping on the pile of paper towels. I look right at her and hit her with a stare that would make a Medusa shriek with pain. She goes over and grabs him.
OK. You see three caution cones and a gigantic mountain of paper towels the size of Mount Doom. The smell would knock over a horse. You need to get control over your crotch fruit. Or do you have it trained so well that you can see a potential lawsuit and you just want to have the spawn break a leg and start suing?
If you cannot control it, or if you cannot teach it to behave in public, leave it at home.
A bottle of pool chemicals managed to burst open Sunday. We put out the orange caution cones and liberally applied paper towels to staunch the flow of "trip and fall" accidents. We call maintenance, but they have to finish a clogged toilet.
While I'm helping customers, I see a woman put her child down - TO PLAY ON THE MOUND of paper towels with chemical fumes rising from it!
I start asking "Is that your son?" When I get a yes, I look right at her and go "Ma'am, those are chemicals. Bleach and pool chemicals. We have caution cones and maintenance is on the way. I really need you to please ask your little boy to come away from there."
She gives me the evil eye and goes "Well I guess you better come here then Billy." She holds him for a minute then he wriggles down and tries to run right back to start jumping on the pile of paper towels. I look right at her and hit her with a stare that would make a Medusa shriek with pain. She goes over and grabs him.
OK. You see three caution cones and a gigantic mountain of paper towels the size of Mount Doom. The smell would knock over a horse. You need to get control over your crotch fruit. Or do you have it trained so well that you can see a potential lawsuit and you just want to have the spawn break a leg and start suing?
If you cannot control it, or if you cannot teach it to behave in public, leave it at home.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Please do not feed the howler monkeys
If your howler is already screeching like a banshee, do not give it any more sugar.
I had a woman come through my line at the Wal-Mart last weekend wanting to do a return. She had six items on four receipts to return and a howler monkey straight from the bowels of hell.
This little minx, named Brittany, was a babbler, a toucher, scrambler and a screamer par excellence.
She touched every single thing on the counter, my debit reader, everything on the register next to mine, she babbled on and on to her mother, she kept trying to ride a returned bicycle and then she tried to climb back into the buggy. Then she started wandering around to talk to a kid in a stroller who was three back in line. "Mommy, look, a little boy."
The mother - who obviously failed at teaching the child to sit still and shut up - kept saying "be still Brittany" or "Now Brittany" or "Come back here Brittany." Brittany know who the boss is. It ain't this poor, tired, sad mommy.
I'm racing through this return as fast as I can when I hear Hapless Mommy say "Brittany, come back and be still and we'll go get ice cream as soon as this is done."
I look straight at that woman and go "Ma'am, I really don't think she needs any more sugar today."
If your howler monkey is already hopped up on sweets, do not give them more. You are just making things worse.
Jesus. Learn to parent, not appease. It didn't work for the British and the French in 1938. It won't work for parents in 2007.
I had a woman come through my line at the Wal-Mart last weekend wanting to do a return. She had six items on four receipts to return and a howler monkey straight from the bowels of hell.
This little minx, named Brittany, was a babbler, a toucher, scrambler and a screamer par excellence.
She touched every single thing on the counter, my debit reader, everything on the register next to mine, she babbled on and on to her mother, she kept trying to ride a returned bicycle and then she tried to climb back into the buggy. Then she started wandering around to talk to a kid in a stroller who was three back in line. "Mommy, look, a little boy."
The mother - who obviously failed at teaching the child to sit still and shut up - kept saying "be still Brittany" or "Now Brittany" or "Come back here Brittany." Brittany know who the boss is. It ain't this poor, tired, sad mommy.
I'm racing through this return as fast as I can when I hear Hapless Mommy say "Brittany, come back and be still and we'll go get ice cream as soon as this is done."
I look straight at that woman and go "Ma'am, I really don't think she needs any more sugar today."
If your howler monkey is already hopped up on sweets, do not give them more. You are just making things worse.
Jesus. Learn to parent, not appease. It didn't work for the British and the French in 1938. It won't work for parents in 2007.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Who's the boss? You or your howler
You are an adult. Act like one. Begging a child to behave in a public space is simply degrading.
I don't even have to deconstruct your life or follow you home to know that you are probably a bad parent - or at least an overworked one. Your older howler already has a hand-held video game that he won't even look up from. The younger howler sitting in the grocery buggy has not one but three action figures.
The fact that you can't pry these things out of their hands for a fifteen-minute run into the grocery store to buy milk and cat food shows that you failed Parenting 101: Setting Limits.
The older howler plops down on an unused grocery bag turnstile and starts playing his game. The line moves past him there are now several people in between you and him. You call his name. He looks at you and goes back to his game. Ha. Who's got the power in this little drama? It sure ain't you.
You call his name again. Same thing happens. You raise your voice and start to get whiny "Howler, will you please come here." He gives you a dirty look and goes back to his game. This continues until you are yelling at him to come over. Which he finally does with a sigh and another dirty look.
Ma'am - your howler monkey is already ignoring you at nine years old. You are waging a war of wills with him - IN PUBLIC - and losing. Imagine what's going to happen when he really starts making trouble.
You can't get him to close his video game and walk 10 feet - at age nine. At age 16 your voice will be nothing more than static in his ears - if it isn't already.
Take the video games and action figures away from your howler monkeys. Talk to them. Read to them. Books is gud! Because today's howler monkeys are smarter, meaner, more conniving and far, far more vicious than you would ever imagine they can be. If you aren't in control of them by age 5, you are never going to be!
I don't even have to deconstruct your life or follow you home to know that you are probably a bad parent - or at least an overworked one. Your older howler already has a hand-held video game that he won't even look up from. The younger howler sitting in the grocery buggy has not one but three action figures.
The fact that you can't pry these things out of their hands for a fifteen-minute run into the grocery store to buy milk and cat food shows that you failed Parenting 101: Setting Limits.
The older howler plops down on an unused grocery bag turnstile and starts playing his game. The line moves past him there are now several people in between you and him. You call his name. He looks at you and goes back to his game. Ha. Who's got the power in this little drama? It sure ain't you.
You call his name again. Same thing happens. You raise your voice and start to get whiny "Howler, will you please come here." He gives you a dirty look and goes back to his game. This continues until you are yelling at him to come over. Which he finally does with a sigh and another dirty look.
Ma'am - your howler monkey is already ignoring you at nine years old. You are waging a war of wills with him - IN PUBLIC - and losing. Imagine what's going to happen when he really starts making trouble.
You can't get him to close his video game and walk 10 feet - at age nine. At age 16 your voice will be nothing more than static in his ears - if it isn't already.
Take the video games and action figures away from your howler monkeys. Talk to them. Read to them. Books is gud! Because today's howler monkeys are smarter, meaner, more conniving and far, far more vicious than you would ever imagine they can be. If you aren't in control of them by age 5, you are never going to be!
Monday, August 27, 2007
Keep track of it or give it to me to sell
If you cannot keep up with your howler monkeys, please do not bring them to shop. I will be happy to take it off your hands. Permanently. ONE HOWLER MONKEY FOR SALE. CHEAP!
The correct ratio of parent to howler monkey upon entering a big-box retailer should be one-to-one - unless there are ropes involved. Twin clauses and a possible in utero contract extension may be invoked to temporarily extend the ratio to a maximum of 1 parent - 3 children - given that you retain two with near-identical DNA and one is current womb fruit.
Being of the male persuasion (however ugly and possessing of man-boobs) and rolling in with FOUR howler monkeys is in certain violation of the Maximum Number of Howlers Per Adult Code. Please see the relevant statutes of the Fire Code, the Customer Service Code and the Reproductive Code.
Furthermore, when in the process of looking at Daddy Yankee CDs (instead of desperately needed grooming products), you mange to lose one howler and he wanders up to my counter howling like a wounded animal and you are unable to be found, my headache becomes your problem.
Yes, we should have called the cops. I wish we would have. Multiple pages in Spanish and English produced no result while there is a CHILD screaming at the top of his lungs and unable to communicate in any language other than "WAH, WAH, WAH, WAH."
If you do not want your howler monkeys, I will relieve you of the burden and sell them to Colombian slavers for a tidy profit. You don't deserve it anyway.
The correct ratio of parent to howler monkey upon entering a big-box retailer should be one-to-one - unless there are ropes involved. Twin clauses and a possible in utero contract extension may be invoked to temporarily extend the ratio to a maximum of 1 parent - 3 children - given that you retain two with near-identical DNA and one is current womb fruit.
Being of the male persuasion (however ugly and possessing of man-boobs) and rolling in with FOUR howler monkeys is in certain violation of the Maximum Number of Howlers Per Adult Code. Please see the relevant statutes of the Fire Code, the Customer Service Code and the Reproductive Code.
Furthermore, when in the process of looking at Daddy Yankee CDs (instead of desperately needed grooming products), you mange to lose one howler and he wanders up to my counter howling like a wounded animal and you are unable to be found, my headache becomes your problem.
Yes, we should have called the cops. I wish we would have. Multiple pages in Spanish and English produced no result while there is a CHILD screaming at the top of his lungs and unable to communicate in any language other than "WAH, WAH, WAH, WAH."
If you do not want your howler monkeys, I will relieve you of the burden and sell them to Colombian slavers for a tidy profit. You don't deserve it anyway.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Howler monkeys are not the featured entertainment
Your infant belongs in a proper carrier. This is not a stage and your baby is not the featured player.
Unless you're planning to tithe your brat to pay for your latte, it is NOT cute to have your wriggling bundle of joy squirming all over the place on top of the Starbucks counter.
Fact the first. I might want to buy that pack of macaroons, that CD or anything else your diseased crotch spawn thinks it is a good idea to put in his mouth.
Fact the second. The cashier has to actually handle the credit card your crotchling has been slobbering on in between nibbles on Sir Paul McCartney's latest audio offerings.
Fact the third. Your vagina fruit might fall off the counter while your babbling like a demented sheep to the other mommy-drones in your play group about the coffee beans, the aforementioned Sir Paul CDs, the newspaper, the yummy-looking but OMG so fattening pastries and the ZOMG fact that your other crotch spawn have to wear uniforms to public school this year. Seriously. You have a baby stroller the size of a Cadillac. Use it.
Fact the fourth. You are yammering away to the mommy drones and actually SHOPPING inside the Starbucks and aren't even paying attention when the woman asks you if you want to use your Duetto Visa as credit or Starbucks card. So seriously, don't explode when you get a receipt and the payment is not how you wanted it. You were yammering on about cold-press coffee and fifteen people heard you.
Fact the fifth. The same fifteen people are NOW WAITING EVEN LONGER because you cannot suck it up and deal and want a void. Which necessitates management, a re-ringing of your transactions and some nasty looks at the cashier on behalf of you and the mommy-drones. Seriously, if you knew what people were thinking when they were looking at you, you'd have tucked that receipt in your Louis Vuitton bag and run like a "friend" on one of Dick Cheney's hunting trips.
Unless you're planning to tithe your brat to pay for your latte, it is NOT cute to have your wriggling bundle of joy squirming all over the place on top of the Starbucks counter.
Fact the first. I might want to buy that pack of macaroons, that CD or anything else your diseased crotch spawn thinks it is a good idea to put in his mouth.
Fact the second. The cashier has to actually handle the credit card your crotchling has been slobbering on in between nibbles on Sir Paul McCartney's latest audio offerings.
Fact the third. Your vagina fruit might fall off the counter while your babbling like a demented sheep to the other mommy-drones in your play group about the coffee beans, the aforementioned Sir Paul CDs, the newspaper, the yummy-looking but OMG so fattening pastries and the ZOMG fact that your other crotch spawn have to wear uniforms to public school this year. Seriously. You have a baby stroller the size of a Cadillac. Use it.
Fact the fourth. You are yammering away to the mommy drones and actually SHOPPING inside the Starbucks and aren't even paying attention when the woman asks you if you want to use your Duetto Visa as credit or Starbucks card. So seriously, don't explode when you get a receipt and the payment is not how you wanted it. You were yammering on about cold-press coffee and fifteen people heard you.
Fact the fifth. The same fifteen people are NOW WAITING EVEN LONGER because you cannot suck it up and deal and want a void. Which necessitates management, a re-ringing of your transactions and some nasty looks at the cashier on behalf of you and the mommy-drones. Seriously, if you knew what people were thinking when they were looking at you, you'd have tucked that receipt in your Louis Vuitton bag and run like a "friend" on one of Dick Cheney's hunting trips.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
If it takes a dump, change it
Your baby's stank diaper is more important than your shopping.
Ma'am, I don't know what you fed that fat little lump of baby-love, but ... there's no way around this ... it stinks like roadkill. Roadkill with a side of dead roadkill on a roadkill bun.
Corned beef and cabbage coming out the hind end of a Guinness-fueled Irishman at the end of a week-long bender would be preferable to the smell of that.
I can see a diaper bag. I can see diapers. The restroom is less than 20 feet away. Unless that bag is full of stolen merchandise, please, for the love of Cthulu, put a fresh diaper on it. Can't you hear it screaming in aggravation? But damn, you're going to stand right here and argue over $1.64 on the price of a clearance shirt aren't you?
A screaming baby is bad enough. One that smells so bad other customers are asking me if there is something wrong is too much. And it just keeps howling louder. No. Reaching an arm back to "shush" it isn't going to work. You need to give it some attention.
Please. If you cannot care for it, do not have it. It is not just a source of "free mawney frum de gubbermint." It is a human life. One that right now smells like the day after at an Indian food bazaar.
Ma'am, I don't know what you fed that fat little lump of baby-love, but ... there's no way around this ... it stinks like roadkill. Roadkill with a side of dead roadkill on a roadkill bun.
Corned beef and cabbage coming out the hind end of a Guinness-fueled Irishman at the end of a week-long bender would be preferable to the smell of that.
I can see a diaper bag. I can see diapers. The restroom is less than 20 feet away. Unless that bag is full of stolen merchandise, please, for the love of Cthulu, put a fresh diaper on it. Can't you hear it screaming in aggravation? But damn, you're going to stand right here and argue over $1.64 on the price of a clearance shirt aren't you?
A screaming baby is bad enough. One that smells so bad other customers are asking me if there is something wrong is too much. And it just keeps howling louder. No. Reaching an arm back to "shush" it isn't going to work. You need to give it some attention.
Please. If you cannot care for it, do not have it. It is not just a source of "free mawney frum de gubbermint." It is a human life. One that right now smells like the day after at an Indian food bazaar.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Lung power is not an Olympic sport
If you child is screaming, shut it up or find out why it is screaming.
I don't expect a shopping mall to be quiet. There's too much stimulation for children. However, if your howler monkey has enough sheer lung power to cut through the clutter of a Friday night food court and drive me out of the mall from 50 feet away - you have a problem.
I don't know why it is screaming. It doesn't look hurt. It is standing on two feet. There are no tears. Some sibling howler monkeys are standing next to it. Shrieks that would drive an army of banshees straight out of the depths of hell are emerging from this child.
If it is making enough noise to raise the dead and bury the living, either its appendix is about to explode or it really wants a damn cookie.
In either case, no acceptable parenting option includes standing around like a dime-store mannequin while your child shouts down the house. Is it hurt? Is it in pain? Is it in imminent danger of dying? No? Then cram a diaper, a dirty sock, a slice of pizza or a just about anything handy (other than your fist - hitting is never an option) into its mouth.
Do humanity a couple of favors. #1) Don't breed. #2) Pay some attention to your kids. #3) Distribute earplugs.
I don't expect a shopping mall to be quiet. There's too much stimulation for children. However, if your howler monkey has enough sheer lung power to cut through the clutter of a Friday night food court and drive me out of the mall from 50 feet away - you have a problem.
I don't know why it is screaming. It doesn't look hurt. It is standing on two feet. There are no tears. Some sibling howler monkeys are standing next to it. Shrieks that would drive an army of banshees straight out of the depths of hell are emerging from this child.
If it is making enough noise to raise the dead and bury the living, either its appendix is about to explode or it really wants a damn cookie.
In either case, no acceptable parenting option includes standing around like a dime-store mannequin while your child shouts down the house. Is it hurt? Is it in pain? Is it in imminent danger of dying? No? Then cram a diaper, a dirty sock, a slice of pizza or a just about anything handy (other than your fist - hitting is never an option) into its mouth.
Do humanity a couple of favors. #1) Don't breed. #2) Pay some attention to your kids. #3) Distribute earplugs.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Tie it to a chair if it won't sit down
If it won't sit down, tie it to the chair and gag it. With corn on the cob. Better yet, leave it at home.
Restaurants are not a natural habitat for howler monkeys. Dining establishments should never devolve into a zoo. I don't care where it is - white tablecloth and cut crystal decanters right down to plastic booths - no one wants to see (or hear) your crotchlings running races in the aisles as servers carrying trays laden with SIZZLING HOT DISHES dodge them.
I appreciate you want family time. However, learning begins at home. Suck it up, get your face out of the plate of nachos and tie your howler monkey's tail to the chair. If that Awesome Blossom is so important, get it to go and spare us your spawn!
If it cries, screams, howls and otherwise bleats for attention, that should be a clue that YOU have heretofore failed as a parent. Go back two spaces and start over in teaching your child to sit down, shut up and behave in public.
PS: No howler monkey can reasonably be expected to sit through a two-hour family reunion drunk-fest with drinks, appetizers and meals for 15 people. You suck. Get a babysitter. The children don't care and will soon start throwing French fries in frustration. Be glad it's not me. I'd throw glassware.
Restaurants are not a natural habitat for howler monkeys. Dining establishments should never devolve into a zoo. I don't care where it is - white tablecloth and cut crystal decanters right down to plastic booths - no one wants to see (or hear) your crotchlings running races in the aisles as servers carrying trays laden with SIZZLING HOT DISHES dodge them.
I appreciate you want family time. However, learning begins at home. Suck it up, get your face out of the plate of nachos and tie your howler monkey's tail to the chair. If that Awesome Blossom is so important, get it to go and spare us your spawn!
If it cries, screams, howls and otherwise bleats for attention, that should be a clue that YOU have heretofore failed as a parent. Go back two spaces and start over in teaching your child to sit down, shut up and behave in public.
PS: No howler monkey can reasonably be expected to sit through a two-hour family reunion drunk-fest with drinks, appetizers and meals for 15 people. You suck. Get a babysitter. The children don't care and will soon start throwing French fries in frustration. Be glad it's not me. I'd throw glassware.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
No child can sit still for an hour
Would you bring a child to a job interview? No? Then don't bring it to fill out the application.
The Wal-Mart has a computerized hiring center. It is the usual "work history" type thing PLUS an 80-question test that wants to know how likely you are to steal by asking you sneaky questions. It takes about 45 minutes to an hour. For some reason, parents think it is OK to bring their children while they fill out the application.
Whole families sometimes make it an outing. I've seen three generations. It's another added feature of Wal-Mart. Shopping. Banking. Hair Styling. Photo Studio. Nail Salon. Boring Typing!
No child can remain quiet for an hour. Especially not an infant. Not in a busy retail environment. They howl and scream and throw things and cause the parent to go "SHUSH." Really, that don't work.
The Wal-Mart has a computerized hiring center. It is the usual "work history" type thing PLUS an 80-question test that wants to know how likely you are to steal by asking you sneaky questions. It takes about 45 minutes to an hour. For some reason, parents think it is OK to bring their children while they fill out the application.
Whole families sometimes make it an outing. I've seen three generations. It's another added feature of Wal-Mart. Shopping. Banking. Hair Styling. Photo Studio. Nail Salon. Boring Typing!
No child can remain quiet for an hour. Especially not an infant. Not in a busy retail environment. They howl and scream and throw things and cause the parent to go "SHUSH." Really, that don't work.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Pick your children up off the floor
If children cannot sit in the designated child seat on the buggy or stand quietly while you conduct business, leave them at home.
Flame me or not, but you need to control your child. I think there should be intelligence tests before child-bearing, but that's just me.
Do not allow your howler monkey to lie on the floor of a discount store. It will catch something nasty. I believe in Darwinism, but seriously, do you know how many stanky feet have been on that?
Your crippled parenting skills should not be put on display for everyone in a 50 decibel radius to hear. And ignoring the child while it throws a temper tantrum does not work when in public. It already has attention. It knows everyone is looking at it.
Look - that kid could shout down the walls of Jericho - you might want to see why he's lying on his stomach, pounding the floor and screaming MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY. Everyone else within earshot is certainly wondering what the hell is going on. But you don't notice that while you're yakking away on your phone, even though you keep making "shush" noises at a three-year-old.
Flame me or not, but you need to control your child. I think there should be intelligence tests before child-bearing, but that's just me.
Do not allow your howler monkey to lie on the floor of a discount store. It will catch something nasty. I believe in Darwinism, but seriously, do you know how many stanky feet have been on that?
Your crippled parenting skills should not be put on display for everyone in a 50 decibel radius to hear. And ignoring the child while it throws a temper tantrum does not work when in public. It already has attention. It knows everyone is looking at it.
Look - that kid could shout down the walls of Jericho - you might want to see why he's lying on his stomach, pounding the floor and screaming MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY. Everyone else within earshot is certainly wondering what the hell is going on. But you don't notice that while you're yakking away on your phone, even though you keep making "shush" noises at a three-year-old.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
You are the adult, not the child
Strong boundaries are a sign of good parenting. If you are old enough to have children, stop acting like one.
If your parents failed with you, you need to recognize and correct. The rest of the world will not forgive their mistakes. In fact, those nasty looks are indeed aimed squarely at you and your howler monkeys.
Parking your three children in front of the register at Starbucks at 8:55 a.m. and saying “Do you want this? What about this? Or this?” Repeat in triplicate while a mob grows behind you.
If you MUST, give children a choice. Juice or milk. Apple or banana. Cookie or muffin. In my childhood, I took what I was given and was grateful for it.
Your precious num-nums will eat and drink or go hungry and thirsty and appreciate what they have next time. And the rest of the working poor can get finally step around your Cadillac-sized stroller, Louis Vuitton bag stuffed full of crap, Chanel sunglasses and Ralph Lauren outfit for our $5 half-caf, no-foam, no-whip venti chai lattes and get to work.
If your parents failed with you, you need to recognize and correct. The rest of the world will not forgive their mistakes. In fact, those nasty looks are indeed aimed squarely at you and your howler monkeys.
Parking your three children in front of the register at Starbucks at 8:55 a.m. and saying “Do you want this? What about this? Or this?” Repeat in triplicate while a mob grows behind you.
If you MUST, give children a choice. Juice or milk. Apple or banana. Cookie or muffin. In my childhood, I took what I was given and was grateful for it.
Your precious num-nums will eat and drink or go hungry and thirsty and appreciate what they have next time. And the rest of the working poor can get finally step around your Cadillac-sized stroller, Louis Vuitton bag stuffed full of crap, Chanel sunglasses and Ralph Lauren outfit for our $5 half-caf, no-foam, no-whip venti chai lattes and get to work.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Food is for the dinner table
Please do not feed the howler monkeys.
Shopping trips to Wal-Mart do not necessitate packing a "snacky-poo" for your child. Anything other than a bottle for an obviously newborn infant is just creating bad habits that someone else is going to have to break at a future point in time.
Coming to Wal-Mart should not be so tiring for a child to have the Service Desk be the home of a Gerber Graduates yummy yams feeding. If it is your child's meal time, you need to be at home - not returning merchandise.
If they shriek like banshees for food, you have several problems.
First, you need to smack them to make them lower their voices in public. Yelling is not an acceptable way to communicate. No one is dying or in imminent danger of achieving that state. Shut up and stay shut up.
Next, you need to create regular meal times and stick to that.
Finally, you do not need to be running around with small children at 10 p.m. on a Sunday night. Go home. Dogs and retail slaves with sensitive ears will thank you.
Shopping trips to Wal-Mart do not necessitate packing a "snacky-poo" for your child. Anything other than a bottle for an obviously newborn infant is just creating bad habits that someone else is going to have to break at a future point in time.
Coming to Wal-Mart should not be so tiring for a child to have the Service Desk be the home of a Gerber Graduates yummy yams feeding. If it is your child's meal time, you need to be at home - not returning merchandise.
If they shriek like banshees for food, you have several problems.
First, you need to smack them to make them lower their voices in public. Yelling is not an acceptable way to communicate. No one is dying or in imminent danger of achieving that state. Shut up and stay shut up.
Next, you need to create regular meal times and stick to that.
Finally, you do not need to be running around with small children at 10 p.m. on a Sunday night. Go home. Dogs and retail slaves with sensitive ears will thank you.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Discipline is not optional
Thou shalt control thy child, if not, I'll do it for you.
If you see children misbehaving, slap them across the face that they might learn to behave in public.
If you are unable to discipline your children, please do not act shocked when other people take it upon themselves to do it for you. You are a bad parent. Your parents were bad parents and their parents before them. Someone must correct these mistakes before humanity circles the drain hole of species death.
My grandmother's rule was "Act up in public, and you'll get a spanking with the hand in the store and another one with the belt at home." We behaved.
If you see children misbehaving, slap them across the face that they might learn to behave in public.
If you are unable to discipline your children, please do not act shocked when other people take it upon themselves to do it for you. You are a bad parent. Your parents were bad parents and their parents before them. Someone must correct these mistakes before humanity circles the drain hole of species death.
My grandmother's rule was "Act up in public, and you'll get a spanking with the hand in the store and another one with the belt at home." We behaved.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Sterilization before recreation
If you can't control your children, do not have them.
If you don't know what to do with your children, do not have them. Or have them and sell them. Or give them up for adoption. Don't keep them and treat them like accessories.
Children are not like handbags or shoes. Nor bangle bracelets. Having a lot of them doesn't really do much for your outfit. Nor does baby spew.
Take the pill. Get the implant. Get the snip. Shoplift some Trojans. Use the rhythm method. Quit having them if you're not prepared for them. Or too stupid to look after it properly. It's not like you stuff it back in and ask for a refund.
If you don't know what to do with your children, do not have them. Or have them and sell them. Or give them up for adoption. Don't keep them and treat them like accessories.
Children are not like handbags or shoes. Nor bangle bracelets. Having a lot of them doesn't really do much for your outfit. Nor does baby spew.
Take the pill. Get the implant. Get the snip. Shoplift some Trojans. Use the rhythm method. Quit having them if you're not prepared for them. Or too stupid to look after it properly. It's not like you stuff it back in and ask for a refund.
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