And perhaps by tomorrow, I won't feel quite so strongly about the grade-A bee-ah-tch I crossed paths with today.
But I have sortof a philosophy on kids' behavior in public. If I wouldn't allow my child to do it to someone else, then it's unacceptable for someone to do it to my child (hitting, spitting on, throwing things at, etc.). And typically I just move on but today was different. And apparently I don't know the rules . . .
We went to the Dupage County Fair today, because I love it. Actually so does P. Ridiculous amounts of money are spent there (and we don't even ride the rides) but there are so many things we like that I guess it's worth it.
P's favorite place is a Hamman Farms-sponsored 'booth' on grains raised in Illinois. It consists basically of three large tractor tires on their sides, each filled with a grain (corn, soybeans, and wheat). The kids can get in and play with the grains, reminiscent of a sandbox.
On one of our many stops there today (can't just go there once), it was PACKED with little kids from what turned out to be two families there together. They were all barefoot (my kids wear their shoes, I think it's foul to go barefoot in a place where who-knows-who-else has been barefoot and left behind heaven-only-knows-what?) and the girls starting demanding that N take his shoes off. First, I ignored them and when they got really obnoxious, I said, "No, he doesn't have to take his shoes off." Well, then I got, "YES, HE DOES!" and lots of complaining about his feet hitting theirs. So not bothered by that. They want to protect their little piggies, they can wear their shoes. There are no signs saying kids have to take off their shoes and again, it's a FAIR. It's not like someone's *sanitizing* this stuff. Eeeewwww.
Then I realize one of their little boys is throwing handfuls of corn at P, who is asking very politely for the kid to stop. That's not working and none of the three parents (this child actually had both mommy and daddy there, I later learned) with the group are saying squat. So I stepped up and said, "Hey, let's stop throwing corn."
The child climbs out of the corn wheel, into the soybean wheel, and starts picking up handfuls of beans and dropping them on N's head. Who isn't too thrilled. So I step over and say, "Excuse me, does this child belong to you? He's dropping soybeans on my kid . . ." Before I can actually finish saying it, B*tch Mom gives me the biggest, fakest smile, and says (imagine the sarcasm here, she was oozing it), "Oh, yeah, that's really awful!" Huh?
So (Queen of the Comebacks I am not) I went on to tell her that he'd also been throwing corn and I didn't think that was OK, and she continues in her drippy, sweet-as-honey, sarcastic voice, "Well, I'll beat him when I get home!"
The only thing I could come out with (thankfully stammer free) was a sarcastic, "Well, thank you for handling this in such a mature, adult fashion."
There was actually a slightly longer exchange than that because at one point, I said that I don't let my kids do it and I thought perhaps she'd like to know and got a snotty turn in response. She walked off with the parent of the other kids and left her husband behind putting shoes on somebody and D*MN was I tempted to ask, "Is that your wife? You actually put up with her?" but I just couldn't do it.
I did think later that I probably should have responded (when she first said, "Oh, that's just awful!"), "Yeah, I guess you're right; truly awful would be my children growing up to be like you."
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