« Bad Mom Awards | Main | Heard Around The House, Part 38 »

Apparently, there was an asshole convention at the park today.

First, there were the lazy moms who parked themselves on a bench 40 feet away from the actual playground. I’m assuming they did this in order to abdicate all control over their children, who proceeded to act out Lord of the Flies in its entirety.

Then there were the snotty moms, who chose to sit on the only two swings on a playground crowded with children, and gabbed away about elementary school wait lists, oblivious to the kids who kept looking wistfully at the swings. (The playground fathers all told their kids to wait until the ladies cleared off. I’m not as nice. I loudly asked Sam, “YOU WANT TO SWING? WELL, LET’S GO ASK THESE LADIES IF THEY’LL LET US HAVE A TURN!” Seriously . . . why are men so averse to a little conflict?)

Then there was the jackass who drove his SUV up onto the park lawn, opened all the doors and back hatch, and began to blast us all with his ill-advised choices in music.

As the snooty maître d' said in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, “I weep for the future.”

Speaking of weeping for the future, we got Ding Dong Ditched last night. I blame the boy who lives next door, nick-named (by me) The Pestilence a la P.G. Woodhouse. The boy – known as Jon-Jon, if you can believe that – has a vacant eyed, shifty look about him, and is reputed to spend his afternoons shooting at birds with a B.B. gun. Why not just arrest him now, and safe the police the trouble down the line?

Posted 10 November 2007 at 07:03 PM