Little rant… Happy Ending
When I’m at the grocery store, I shouldn’t want to throat punch you while my kid is throwing a fit because you had to come tell me about my parenting skills because NEWSFLASH! All kids throw fits in public, and you did too when you were a little asshole before you grew up to be a big one. If you tell me I should spank because your parents spanked your ass, well NEWSFLASH! It didn’t work did it? You are still an asshole. And you are more annoying than a flock of Jehovah Witnesses trying to get me to convert mixed with telemarketers trying to sell me magazine subscriptions and extended car warranties mixed with customer service from companies like Sprint and Xbox mixed with Westboro protesting funerals and cockroaches. Yes, you are more annoying than cockroaches. At least the cockroach gives me the gratification of smashing him with my shoe and killing him with a crunch-sound at least 5 times before it actually dies (and I don’t they ever die, like I think they come back to life at the bottom of the garbage can after you throw them out). And no, you don’t get the gratification of thinking I have cockroaches in my house. I killed those things in Puerto Rico at my mother in law’s house. You are even more annoying than my kids throwing the fit, like I wasn’t pissed off until you showed up. I expect a 5 year old to cry when she doesn’t get her way, when she has to deal with minor discomforts like self-control. I don’t expect tantrums from a grown ass person. Some of y’all actually do jump up and down and turn red with your adult fits, but even if you don’t, you are still throwing a fit if you had to stop what you are doing to come give me a piece of your mind. You are behaving no different than a toddler, and if I’m going to spank anyone’s ass over it, it will definitely be yours because you SHOULD know better. If you want to get into how people are supposed to behave, start with your damned self. Grow the fuck up.
When I’m in public and my kid goes ape shit, I’m a little busy. I don’t have time to talk to you about your grandmother’s soup recipe or to listen to you tell me exactly what my kid is doing like you are some sort of god when all you are doing is being a Madden giving me a play by play of the game I’m watching. Yes I’m aware my kid is going ape shit. I would think me kneeling down whispering sweet nothings into her ear about spankings and leaving would clue you in on such a thing. Like you are the daft one if you believe you are giving me wisdom with your, “Umm, excuse me miss, but your kid is throwing a fit, and a public place is no place for that.” No shit Sherlock. Nothing gets passed you. Maybe you should join the Marine Corps with those awesome skills of observation, or better yet, you should run for President with your diplomacy skills and social tact. Do you really think I’m going to listen to your advice? Hell no. I don’t want my kid growing up to act anything like you. YOU SUCK like a whore. Keep talking and I will make you drop to your knees like the bitch you are and assume the “suck my metaphorical dick” position. No for real, I have a tendency to “accidentally” hit people with my grocery cart or drop a can of green beans on their foot. When you got a kid throwing a fit and a grown up in your face distracting you while you were just trying to get some milk and bread in the first place and you are on a schedule with all this in front of you, it’s easy to get clumsy. VERY EASY TO GET CLUMSY.
Now the happy side. One time I took my oldest to get pizza. We went into the Pizza Joint, grabbed the pizza, I put pizza in the car, she refused to get in the car. She kept planking to where I couldn’t get her in her car seat. Whoever invented those suck because getting a kid who is totally cooperating with you into a car seat isn’t an easy task, like you still break a nail or finger trying, and kids rarely cooperate, so where the fuck do they get this idea of making car seats so “user friendly” for kids who are rebelling against it? It doesn’t help this kid is double jointed, so even with a 5 point harness, she can slip out of it, like a cat. Which she did. The ONLY way I was going to legally be able to leave that parking lot with that kid at that point was for her to agree with me, sit down, get buckled and stay seated. Instead, she was screaming bloody murder. Snot was flying from her nose, tears were soaking her clothes… We are talking total autistic meltdown. This angel appeared in the shape of a rich blond woman, one that looked like she would damn you to hell some Sunday morning for wearing those shoes with that dress, and she totally stepped out from any stereotype of her Gap clothes and 50,000 dollar SUV, and she calmly offered my child some health gum (yes they make health gum that has Vitamin C in it) while telling me I’m awesome. She stayed calm with a soothing voice the whole time. She did not judge that I was almost in the fetal position crying for my mommy, or that my car was a fucking trash can disaster that day, or that my clothes looked like color blind football coach picked them out, nor did she advise medication or spankings or not spanking or anything… She did not judge at all. She did not demean. She just helped. When I drove off, with my daughter happily sitting in her car seat buckled safely chewing her gum, I noticed the angel woman getting into her SUV with her what appeared to be tween daughter who sat there patiently for the 20 minutes her mother spent helping. A tween sitting patiently. You rarely see that in this world. NOW that is a person I want my kid to grow up to be like. That woman knows what she is doing.
So before you get all excited about the humor of sticking condoms in a mom’s cart, or get the notion to tell that bitch with those kids what to do… how dare them be in your presence with that stuff, just think of this blog. How old are you? Do you want to be the beautiful angel lady? Or do you want to be the asshole, the hairy ugly asshole that shits all over the place? Just know, people will treat you as whichever one you decide to be, and I beg you, please don’t make me accidentally run over your foot with my grocery cart. You are just adding to the shit I’m going to have to bring up to a priest some day.
For creative things to say to mean people with parenting advice like, “Can you quiet your child?” other than, “No. I can’t shut the kid up just like I can’t shut you up,” check out my post on the autism card.