Saturday, January 10, 2004

Bad Parenting Bitch #728

This is most certainly not the first time I have bitched about kids with no limits, who have been trained by their parents to think that they are the worlds pupak.
I hate those parents and if I could, I would send them all to parenting boot camp.

So, I'm at the Asian Market this afternoon, and across from the Asian Market is a Chinese Bakery. Occasionally, I stop there to get some buns or sweets for my stepson.

I don't know if you know this or not, but no one can make sponge cake like the Chinese (just so you know).

So anyway, I'm in the bakery and I've got my tray and tongs and I'm ready to choose my goods.
There is a family in the bakery with two children.
A boy and a girl who are alternating between running around wildly and opening the various containers and feeling up the buns.
The little boy has a bun he's chewing on, that his parents clearly have not paid for yet because they were still choosing what they wanted on their trays.
The little girl was sticking her snotty little hands into every container she could reach and her parents were doing fuck all to stop her.
At one point the woman working behind the counter came out and told her to stop.

She responded by wailing and throwing herself on the floor.
Mom and Dad don't do anything.
She starts to kick the table that is holding more baked goods and then grabs one of the cakes wrapped in plastic and torpedoes it at the lady behind the counter.

Well ladies and gentlemen, this is where Children's Aid would have had to come and get me if she were my child.
The father apologizes sheepishly to the lady behind the counter and mom says to add the cake to the bill.

I look at the woman behind the counter and she looks at me and I know that we are thinking the same thing.

So, I've got my tray full of buns on the counter and doesn't satan's spawn throw his soggy, saliva soaked piece of bun on my fucking tray!

"Aye!" says I, as I give him a little shove in the shoulder, and I point to the half eaten, soggy, saliva infested blob of dough touching my buns.

"Oh," says mom, "He probably thinks that it's our tray"
"Oh" says I, "It's a disgusting thing to do even if it IS your tray. I don't know if you've noticed or not....BUT YOU'RE OUT IN PUBLIC!"

Then I turned and left.
Did I want those buns after that?
No way.

We go through graduated licensing to get a drivers license, but any idiot can have a kid.

Overheard at Herbies:
A guy and a woman discussing the merits of canned soup.
"Yeah, I don't like that brand, the chicken is processed".

Chickie, if it's canned, it's processed, I'm thinking.

Then Chickie says: "Yeah, once I made my own soup"
Guy: "You made your own soup?"
Like she said "I made my own house"....