My very first LJ rant ever!
Jun. 10th, 2007 12:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jenny_islanderTo the tall, skinny guy with the short auburn beard who paused to talk to me in Safeway this evening:
You did not just validate your mad parenting skilz. You did not call me out on my bad parenting behavior. You did not strike a blow against [insert whatever obscenities currently apply to me and my husband and children this week] on behalf of the childfree.
You recommended striking a baby until she screams in pain.
Actual conversation:
BABY: Blat! (Translation: This is my mad voice! I am tired and I want to go home and have the booby. I have been telling you this every 10 to 30 seconds since we got here and you are not getting my point.)
ME, HURRYING TO GET THE ESSENTIALS BECAUSE I WOULD RATHER NOT BE HERE EITHER: It's okay, sweetie, we're almost done. I know, I know, it's tough sometimes.
BABY: Blat! (Translation: Not buying your soothing tone of voice, lady. Booby now! Attica! Attica!)
AFOREMENTIONED AUBURN-BEARDED GENT, ABOUT MY AGE, NO VISIBLE SIGNS OF MENTAL DECAY: mutter-mutter-mutter (word that is either "smack" or "slap") mutter-mutter-mutter give her something to cry about. *smile smile*
ME, TRYING TO PUT A GOOD FACE ON IT AND NOT WANTING TO START A FIGHT: "I want to go home!" That's all she's saying. Babies get tired and bored the same as us. (Or words to that effect; I was pretty shocked at the time.) *smile smile, push cart away from the crazy man who wants to HIT MY BABY DAUGHTER*
Creep.
UPDATE: He turned out to be a local judge.
You did not just validate your mad parenting skilz. You did not call me out on my bad parenting behavior. You did not strike a blow against [insert whatever obscenities currently apply to me and my husband and children this week] on behalf of the childfree.
You recommended striking a baby until she screams in pain.
Actual conversation:
BABY: Blat! (Translation: This is my mad voice! I am tired and I want to go home and have the booby. I have been telling you this every 10 to 30 seconds since we got here and you are not getting my point.)
ME, HURRYING TO GET THE ESSENTIALS BECAUSE I WOULD RATHER NOT BE HERE EITHER: It's okay, sweetie, we're almost done. I know, I know, it's tough sometimes.
BABY: Blat! (Translation: Not buying your soothing tone of voice, lady. Booby now! Attica! Attica!)
AFOREMENTIONED AUBURN-BEARDED GENT, ABOUT MY AGE, NO VISIBLE SIGNS OF MENTAL DECAY: mutter-mutter-mutter (word that is either "smack" or "slap") mutter-mutter-mutter give her something to cry about. *smile smile*
ME, TRYING TO PUT A GOOD FACE ON IT AND NOT WANTING TO START A FIGHT: "I want to go home!" That's all she's saying. Babies get tired and bored the same as us. (Or words to that effect; I was pretty shocked at the time.) *smile smile, push cart away from the crazy man who wants to HIT MY BABY DAUGHTER*
Creep.
UPDATE: He turned out to be a local judge.
