#109 In which our hero controls his kids.
I have something to say.
To the lady that took one look at our kids and said a little too loudly, "Ugh, I hopes they don't cry!" while we were being seated at Appleby's last night: Fuck you. It was Appleby's on a Saturday night... be glad that you weren't seated next to an over-caffeinated HS football cheerleaders squad or somesuch... it ain't the Ritz, y'know.
And for the record, our kids where great. Macey fussed a bit, but was generally very quiet for a 6-month old. And Lily was too busy filling her mouth with hot dog and broccoli to cause much of a ruckus.
In an odd synchronicity, there is an article in today's Plain Dealer about kids in public. Well, about noisy kids in public. It occurs to me that not so long ago I was one of those people bemoaning kids in public. Matter of fact, I used to bitch about babies in particular. It seemed like no matter where I went, there was a screaming baby just waiting for me... restaurants, movies, check-out lines. But now that I have children of the melt-down-unexpectedly-at-any-moment age, I find myself... well, just about as intolerant as ever.
You would think that I would be more easy-going about it, but I'm not.
People need to take responsibility for their kids... that's all there is to it. The Scientist and I take great pains to make sure our children are not out of control monsters. On the few occasions that there has been an atomic explosion in public... we got the hell out of public. Kids -- or, our kids, at least -- are easily distracted. By walking them around or engaging them in something else (a book, a toy) we can generally shore up the dam again. Now, we also try to be aware of the time of day and make sure we're home for nap time. If for no other reason that daddy likes to take a nap, too.
OH! And here's something that drives me crazy: ever see a little kid trying to get their parent's attention? "Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!" -- ad infinitum. Lily is at the age where she does this, but you know how The Scientist and I deal with it? We answer our child! When Lily says, "Dada! Dada!" I say, "What is it, honey?"
Problem solved.
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