I usually rant about unruly kids, but today I had an unruly parent.
The kid was an unholy terror (Damian, put the clerk down, boy). But I don't blame the kid.
I blame the parents.
Face it folks, you gotta pay attention to your brats, no matter what you think of them.
E5 and I had a kid that was about a year old. I say about as I am terrible guessing ages. All we know was that he was incapable of any speech other than a screech, and he was wearing nothing better than a t-shirt and exploding diapers.
The kid was running around the store yelling at the top of his puny little lungs, slamming into people, fixtures and benches (which had to hurt). He face-planted a few times after tripping over his own feet.
The monster tore all the products off of one fixture, destroying about $100 worth of merchandise, which I have to damage out (but really wanted to charge the parents for). As soon as we stopped the brat from terrorizing that fixture, he moved on to another. I stopped him there, and his mother FINALLY picked him up.
It was then that I decided these people were not capable of being parents.
Pampers ain't kidding when they say 10-20 pounds.
The diapers exploded.
E5 is was in the Marines. He can handle everything.
But not this.
He went in back and did the hundred meter cookie toss with the Porcelain Deity.
I thought about it.
What this made me think about was the age-old question. Why is it you need a license to drive, a license to get married, but ANYONE can shoot out a sprat from between their legs at will.
I feel really sorry for that boy growing up with that family.
And then there was the boy running around the store with a big grin on his face and his hands in his pants the whole time... but that's another story
14 minutes ago