Johnny the Lettuce Diver

I HATE listening to parents that don’t have a clue as to how to get their kids to behave in public.

“Johnny, come here.”
(Johnny wanders into the produce cooler.)
“Johnny! Where are you?”
(Johnny is climbing the strawberry display and is nearing the top.)
Sticking her head in to the cooler, “Johnny! What are you doing?” (The answer is obvious.)
“Johnny, come here!”
(Johnny is getting prepared for a dive of destiny into the lettuce.)
“Johnny, I am going to start counting.” (Is this an appropriate time to do the Sesame Street thing?)
“One.” (Johnny makes his leap and does a perfect belly flop into the lettuce, incidentally loosing the contents of his overfull diaper all over the wet food.)
“Two.” (Johnny begins laughing and doing a little dance of delight celebrating the completion of his dive.)
“Oh you little scamp! You are just soooo cute!” (Mother unit comes over to scoop the little darling up and cart him off to some other part of the store, reinforcing his bad behavior and avoiding having to do anything that resembles discipline.)

I don’t blame the kids. I DO blame the parents.

But payback happens. Twelve years later Johnny is trying to borrow the car to give his pregnant girlfriend a ride to get an abortion from his stoned friend Mike who runs a back alley abortion clinic/ brothel.

Johnny, “Gimmie da keys.”
“I told you that you can’t drive the car anymore since you were caught driving drunk.”
Johnny, “ Gimmie da keys you stupid bitch or I’ll rip off your head and give your body to Mike.”
(Mom unit hands over the keys and any hope of ever feeling safe in her own home again, along with any shred of dignity that she may have ever had.)

I don’t like to take delight in the misfortune of others, but every time I meet one of these undisciplined kids somewhere I know that their parents are going to be paying the price of raising bratty kids for the rest of their lives while I only have to put up with it for a few minutes.

It still doesn’t mean that I am going to like it.