tiggerprr’s scratching post

Ranger Arrested in Gorilla Slaughter

My heart hurt a lot when I read this. I don’t know what else to say.

So we went out to eat for pizza tonight. And I was again reminded of how crappy a lot of parents are. Instead of ONE screaming kid, the table two tables down from them had 3 or 4 kids just running (literally) around the restaurant. One even chucked her shoe at the table behind them, whacking a guy on the melon. Both sets of parents…act like nothing’s going on. The dad of the shoe thrower wasn’t going to say boo to her, until the old guy tells her he’s not going to give her shoe back because she gave it to him when she threw it. Then the little girl chewed the old guy out. All dad did then was ask HER if she was going to say she was sorry. The dad should have been tripping over himself to apologize and then reign in that brat.

Here’s the deal…

A) If your kid screams to high heaven and you can’t calm them within a couple minutes…get a freaking to go box and maybe don’t keep your toddler out past what should be their bedtime.

B) If you have so little room at the dinner table in a restaurant that at least 2-3 kids (seriously, this happened) HAVE to stand at the end of the table, then run around (literally) the restaurant carting food around….Either go to another restaurant where they can accomodate you…or EAT AT HOME!

While you may think your kid’s banshee-like displays of poor behavior are cute or whatever…I don’t.

I raised Ashlyn such that she only threw one hissy fit in her lifetime in public… she was 3 years old. We were at the Houston Galleria and she wanted ice cream from Marble Slab. I agreed, but knowing she wouldn’t eat the whole thing and I’d end up with it, I told her no sprinkles this time. She threw the mother of all screaming fits.. “I WANT SPRINKLES… WAAAAAAAH!” I got the ice cream without the sprinkles….tossed her over my shoulder like a sack of taters…and took her immediately to the car…and ate the whole ice cream in front of her. Yes, I’m mean as a snake…. but you know what?

She NEVER threw a fit again…EVER.

Our adventure has been well…eventful for the last few months.

First, Ashlyn turned 18 on October 2. She informed me she was going to “ride that ass!” then she giggled as I picked my heart & jaw up off the floor. She was of course, referring to the donkey at the Fiesta del Burro Loco. Ai yi yi.

Then on October 5, she wrecked our Cadillac…

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Well…I can’t totally post what I THINK about Michael Vick because my kids read my blog and there would be a string of expletives here that would make Richard Pryor blush. But, I am certain of a few things here…
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Today, we went out and got a new TV for the living room. I won’t pretend that I have any sort of understanding why this one is technically sound. Since my hubby is a Broadcast Engineer, I leave those sort of things to him. It annoys him I know, but I figure “It’s your bag, baby.” Just so long as I can watch 24, American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance, I really don’t care what gizmos are getting me there, ya know what I mean?

So along with this new equipment (this is something else I don’t fully understand, nor care to), we need a plethora of new wiring to make the magic happen. You”ll have to cock your heads to the side along with me, as I ponder the miles of wiring that’s in jumbled heaps throughout our bedroom and in our garage neatly stored away in various strategic locations throughout our house, just in case a wiring emergency should rear it’s ugly head. I am assured, that this wiring is “different” and needed for the proper care and feeding of our new TV.

This may very well be the longest intro to me getting to the actual point of this post. We’re standing in Target to look at the new wiring that we apparently need to hook the Ninetendo Wii up to the new TV when I cannot help but be held prisoner by overhear the following conversation between a mom and her bratty ass 9 or 10 year old little girl:

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Teacher, 40 marries student, 16.

OK…just be warned. I am gonna curse…because…it’s warranted. The parents say that signing the consent for their daughter to marry her track coach was the hardest thing they’ve ever done. Ummmm… no, the hardest thing to do would be to step the hell up and be an eff-ing parent. So the daughter wasn’t talking to them, tough shit. Toss that pedophile coach of hers into jail and/or move the hell away. It’s that damn simple. Dumbasses.

I can’t believe that they signed the consent.