It all began when I almost ran smack into a wandering little boy. He was right in the middle of the walkway, and I couldn't really tell who he belonged to (I almost asked him if he was looking for his mommy or daddy.)
I stopped. He stopped. I hovered, not sure which way the kid was going to move next. Right? Left? I feared that if I tried to twirl around him, I might wind up knocking right into the little boy. I may not love kids, but I have no desire to knee one in teh face. After an awkward little dance, he seemed stuck int hat one spot, and so I moved on. I was like halfway down the hall when a voice yells after me "nice face there miss!" I turned around. It was the mommy. (Had I been making a face? I don't know, I was too busy concentrating on not steamrolling a toddler). "I was trying not to run over your son!," I shot back. This did not seem to matter to the pit bull of a mom. She yelled some more. I don't remember what, because I didn't seem it important enough to bother paying attention to.
Let's recap:
Instead of appreciating my attempt not to hurt her little kid, who should not have been straying so into the middle of a crowd of holiday shoppers, some bitch yelled at me because I apparently made a face while doing so.
Some people have such strange priorities.
Tags:
Posts
3 comments:
So much for the Christmas spirit. (I am Jewish, but I know this is an appropriate social more to cite at this time of year in reference to people being untoward and generally nasty.)
I grew up in that area, and believe me, there is no one as entitled as a tot-toting yuppie at the Mall at C.H. I had the misfortune of working at the Barnes & Noble across the street where it was not unusual for entitled yuppies to ask if we could watch their 4 year olds while they ran across the street to do an errand. I think parenting classes should be mandatory for all Chestnut Hill residents
it's really bad in manhattan. i encounter those types all the time and it drives me nuts. oh well. it helps me realize what kind of person (and eventually mom) i do and don't want to be.
Post a Comment