Monday, May 15, 2006
Childless on Mother's Day, Thank God
I gave a little boy the finger yesterday.
I’m not proud of it, but he deserved it. Maybe it’s just me, but it seemed like all the chilluns were acting out on Sunday, the day we celebrate our mothers. My mom was out of town so I was able to avoid the traditional brunches, flowers and cards. (Think I can still get a Mother’s Day card on sale?) So I was able to treat Sunday like a typical day, but I realized something.
I HATE KIDS.
Whew. I said it. When I say hate, I don’t mean ‘hate’ in the true sense. I don’t mean it in the ‘get your kid away from me’ way. Of course not. I mean it in the ‘get your loud-mouthed, snotty-nosed brat away from me before I rip off my belt and go Godfather Pt. II on him/her.’
See, there are kids and there are KIDS. Kids are cute and innocent. They hold their mommy and daddy’s hand and follow directions. KIDS have one finger up their nose, another up their butt and they scream like banshees. They run through store aisles knocking down everything in sight, with their harried parents acting like they don’t know them.
I visited the only place where I’m loved and respected, Targé, aka Target. Everywhere I went, there was a mother pushing a stroller with a screaming child inside. I wanted to grab the poor women by the hands and say, “Isn’t this your day? Toss that lil’ sucker to your husband and run. Run!” But I didn’t, ‘cause I don’t give unsolicited advice.
I didn’t see the KID until I was walking to my car. Actually, I didn’t see him. I heard him, which is how it always is with KIDS. He was the first one out of his family’s car and he shrieked. I turned around and gave him a look like, WTF? He stopped and stared. I think I was the first black person this little boy saw. Which is sad, given the fact that he was at least half black and his accompanying mother and sister were both white. Then he started hopping and screaming, “I YELL LIKE A GIRL” (I don't even want to touch that statement), which emanated through the entire parking lot. Mom tried to calm him down, but to no avail.
I got in my car and he looked at me, and that’s when I mentally shot my middle finger in the air. That’ll learn ‘em. Sometimes you gotta take matters into your own hands when it comes to the KIDS.