March 28: Bad Parents

If I try real hard, I can remember throwing tantrums in restaurants when going out to eat with my parents. I can't remember my behavior as much as I can remember my sister's, but I'm sure I did the same things she did.

When it came time to order, she would sit there in silence. The server would look at her and ask what she wanted, but she wouldn't answer. My parents would then try to coax it out of her but without any success. At this point, they would either order something for her or tell the server that she wasn't going to have anything.

When a kid pouts, he has his blinders on. Nothing else in the world matters to him except for whatever he's complaining about. I'm sure in my fits of selfishness, I never considered what the server was thinking; standing there waiting for an answer while his tables needed him.

The incident today happened exactly like my sister's. I asked the parents what they wanted to eat and then I asked the little girl what she wanted only to be answered with silence. I then stood there like an idiot while the parents tried to get her to order.

A mixture of emotions started gnawing at my patience as the girl sat with her arms crossed. She didn't want what her parents were suggesting, but she didn't know what she wanted. I wanted to laugh at her and slap her at the same time. I wanted to ask the little brat if she saw me standing there waiting for her. I wanted to laugh and point and ask her if she had any idea how she looked to a complete stranger.

The parents handled the situation beautifully. The mother began to scold as the father turned to me and ordered something he knew she would end up eating. I was able to go on my way and take care of my other tables and they were able to slap her around and beat bruises into her that she would later have to explain as falling down the stairs to her teacher at school. Or they could have just used their words.

At the other end of the spectrum, there was a little boy tonight that threw everything that was set in front of him on the ground. Chips, plates, crayons, place mats, and even a plastic cup full of milk. He would let out a piercing scream every so often for no reason at all. He wasn't crying or laughing. He just wanted to be heard; and oh, how he was! At one point, I went to the table (not in my section), swept up his mess and the mother thanked me and assured me that he was just having a bad day. Right. He wasn't having a bad day, lady. He had a bad mommy and daddy.

Two examples of punk kids trying to get away with something and both were handled completely differently. The point I'm trying to make here is that there are way too many bad parents out there and their lack of parenting is painfully clear in a restaurant. When you're oblivious to the mess under your child's seat, you're a bad parent. When you say no to dessert only to be told by your kid that you really meant yes, you're a bad parent. I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but this is as good a place as any to complain, right?

By the way, I finished this post and did a Google Image search for "Bad Parenting" and I found this awesome picture. I know it doesn't really have anything to do with the post, but I couldn't resist including it!



Listening to Joni Mitchell