At the last minute--the day before our temp contracts with Numbtindoughland are set to expire--they announced that we temps were allowed to dangle on for another two weeks if we so chose.
I thought, "Meh. What the heck/crap." I mean, the Xmas rush is over and the crowds have become MUCH nicer to deal with. I don't come crawling home in the evenings, desperate to remove my shoes and chug a bottle of cough syrup.
Still...there are some times...
It's the moms. Seriously y'all. The moms.
The "Cut the Cord" Mom:
There's a little rope that seperates the "gaming area" from the "observing area." Those two areas are mere inches apart, but to these moms, the ropes make it seem like a mile.
Me: Okay, you wanted to play Gii Sports, right?
Excited Billy: Yeth, mithter!
Me: Okay, right this way!
(Excited Billy steps in. I begin to close the rope behind me when Icy Mom clutches my wrist.)
Icy Mom: I'm his MOTHER. I need to go in with him!
I understand not wanting to let go. I understand being afraid something might happen to it if you let it go wandering off in the big, scary world all by itself. I understand that.
But the thing is, the kid isn't going anywhere, lady. There's a teeny rope seperating the two of you for just ten brief minutes...less if your kid is lousy at tennis or can't hit the baseball. Let your child go, Mom. Let him go. He has to become a man someday. Cut that cord. Today.
The "I'm Going To Defend My Child From Something Just Because I Want To Fight About It, Not Because My Child Really Needs Protection From It" Mom:
Another several Moms complained about one of our favorite Gii games, "Trauma ER Hospital Center 2." The game has you playing the role of a surgeon just out of med school who goes from removing shards of glass from a guy in a motorcycle accident, to stitching up horrible cuts, to exterminating an alien virus from outer space.
Mad Mom: This is SICK! I can't BELIEVE you'd put out a game where you hack people up like this!
Me: (unsaid) You're absolutely right, ma'am. I'll be sure to phone my mom and sister and chide them for their sicko medical ways.
Dumb Mom: I can't BELIEVE Numbtindough would allow children to play a game THIS VIOLENT. This surgery game is DISGUSTING! (meanwhile, little Tommy is blowing zombies heads off with a shotgun in Holiday Evil 4, which Dumb Mom says nothing about)
Two Moms reportedly fainted upon seeing "Trauma ER Hospital Center 2" in action. Normally I might try to be understanding. Some people are squeamish. But not today. It's the 21st Century, not 1928. King Kong is not a real monkey. He's a puppet. You shouldn't need to be wheeled out on a stretcher when you see cartoon video game surgery. And if you do, go spend an afternoon at the cineplex or do a search for the cell phone Saddam hanging. That'll fix you right up.
"Trauma ER Hospital Center 2" was replaced yesterday with "Happy Trucks."
Finally, there's my favorite kind of Mom.
The "Roller" Mom:
This Mom is the dumbest of the three Moms. Why is she dumb? Because her daughter is 9 and the Mom is still pushing the twerp around in a stroller. The kid has to bring its knees to its chest to keep its size ten feet from dragging on the floor. And Mom...Roller Mom...she pushes her kid around anyway.
WHY?!
First I want to go to little Paquita in the stroller and say, "Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Is there something wrong with your legs that you can't walk?"
Then I want to talk to the mother.
"Do you realize that the shameful coddling of your child will make it incapable of effectively adjusting to life without you when the time comes? Do you realize the implications this might have on your child's sexuality? Or the ability to make simple choices like which outfit to wear in the morning? What are you going to do when your child reaches late middle age and is still yowling out cheery Shirley Temple showtunes in pinafores in the living room? Don't you remember what happened to Baby Jane?"
Thing is, you see Roller Moms EVERYWHERE in this town. I guess they figure it's faster to just plop your 13 year old in a stroller and go, go, go. But they're not fooling anybody. The kid looks like an idiot in that stroller (which creaks and bends under the child's weight) and the mom looks like a moron for her willingness to be a slave to their child (who probably still breast-feeds).
Roller Moms, your child is not a doll. Be strong. Dump your daughter out of the thing and get it a pair of sneakers.
I know there are other Moms out there. What are some of YOUR favorite Moms?
5 comments:
I like the moms who stick up for the offspring even when that said offspring is the devil-incarnate. It's not poor little Jimmy's fault that he can't sit still or not make farting noises or even show up to rehearsal...it's YOUR fault. My child DESERVES to have the best part in the play because he's MY child. And the funny thing is the child couldn't care less about it.
Oh, yeah...I also like the parent who brings her child to the nursery when sick...like 24 hr virus sick...and cause my children and of course me to get sick (not just one time, mind you) and then the next week when my child has a mild case of runny nose (which all children never seem to get rid of) said parent rips your head off and advises you that you are a horrible parent for bringing your sick child to the nursery...cause she's a nurse and she knows sick.
OH WOW...pent up frustration I guess.
By the way, I love the way you refer to the children as "it"
I'm a fan of the Queen Mother. You know, the one whose child is either the pretty pretty princess or the crown prince. Their child can do no wrong and will have the best of everything. Not because the kid wants, deserves, or needs it, mind you, but because everything they are and get and do is a reflection on the Queen Mother. And the Queen Mother is the best.
Just to play devil's advocate for a sec... Roller Moms and Rope moms or whatever are probably just trying to keep their little babies from getting kidnapped and worse-than-deathed. Have you ever SEEN Law and Order: SVU? There are some seriously messed-up freakos in la manzana grande.
My personal favorite is the Oblivious Mom, who is so wrapped up in whatever she may be shopping for that her child could grab any knife, flaming torch, or bottle of poison in the store and proceed to maim everyone in sight with it while she just stands there with fabric softener in her hand, mumbling, "If Bounce has more fresh scent, then why is Downy so much more expensive?"
When I worked at Half-Blood Prince Books, these lovely parental specimens would stand for hours (literally) in one spot, reading an entire book in the store, while little Johnny or Jane pushed all of the books I had just spent days fronting all the way back to the backs of the shelves with their little devil hands. When I would finally ask them very politely to stop, ObliviMom would just glance over at them and mutter something like, "Sweetie, don't do po jvpoaj oj japj eaop j.........zzzzzzz?"
Yeah, that's my favorite Mom.
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