For a child to be bad enough to make it on to one of my posts, he must be pretty damn bad. I really have no other title for this post then it truly is an example of bad parenting.
But first, I want to tell you about our “lovely” hotel. As many of you know, we stay several weekends a year in hotels for soccer tournaments. For my youngest, my husband is the admin thus allowing me to choose our hotels. I go to extreme measures, ensuring our hotels are:
- close to the fields
- tastefully decorated
- free breakfast
- and if at all possible, two-room suites
But occasionally, you’re playing in a tournament where the newest hotel was built in 1997 and your options are limited. This was the current case. Our hotel smells like a nursing home. The halls reek of bleach. When you go into your room, the smell goes away but the rooms are painted yellow and are small. The “queen beds”, I’m convinced are full-size beds. To confirm my suspicion, I downloaded a ruler app and measured the bed….twice. A normal queen is 60″, I was measuring 46″. To confirm I was right, I pulled up the sheet, grabbed the tag (don’t worry, I didn’t rip it off as I don’t want to go to prison) and snapped a photo to research the item code. Twenty minutes later, my search proved fruitless so I slammed the laptop closed and went to dinner.
There’s a wonderful Mexican restaurant we’ve eaten at before and it’s within walking distance of our hotel. I was hangry at that point and couldn’t wait to make the tortilla chips my bitch. We had another father and son join us and we were immediately seated. Allow me to clarify; we were seated next to Satan himself. Satan was with his mother, father, baby sister and what looked to be another couple. 3 pitchers of margaritas were on the table and I deduced the baby would be the designated driver this evening.
10 minutes into our meal, Satan decided he was a fog horn and began to “honk” loudly every 20 seconds. This continued for about a minute and would randomly occur during the entire evening. I looked over at the mother, willing her to catch my gaze and realized she was really sucking as a parent right now. She was completely oblivious that her wonderful angel was making my Mexican dining experience a nightmare.
Between appetizers, Satan decided to slide his little sister’s high-chair across the floor, two feet into the middle of the aisle. By now, the little baby turned around and looked at us as if to say, “get me away from this psycho.” Of course, none of the 4 adults drinking margaritas took notice that the baby was now in the middle of the aisle.
‘Blink twice little baby if you need us to call social services,’ I thought.
Satan and the Ninja-Knives
The final straw was when Satan decided it was ninja-knife time. He picked up 2 knives and swung them around like a Marvel character. Again, no parental interception and I was seconds away from losing it. I would say, “if my children acted like this…” but the thing is, I would never let it get to this point. If my children were ever annoying, I would always apologize to those around me. If I knew my kids weren’t going to do well in a restaurant, guess what? We wouldn’t go.
I snapped the picture on the left. If the parents weren’t paying attention to Satan and noticing lil’ sis was in the middle of the aisle, they weren’t going to notice me snapping a picture. For their privacy, I hid their faces but if I hadn’t, you’d notice the kid was starring right at me; and I at him.
We finally left and all I wanted was a dark room to decompress. Those parents…..wth? The father that joined us for dinner commented that was literally the loudest restaurant he had ever been in.
Public Service Announcement: If you can’t control your children, don’t take them to public places. That is all.