I'm in Panera right now, hunkered down with my laptop, notebook, books and a cup of coffee (decaf, because my daily Diet Coke has been giving me the worst leg twitches lately). I'm listening to happy cafe sounds now, but about an hour ago, there was the most miserable toddler in here, shrieking and fussing.
Every time I hear a child screech like that, I cringe inside. Sometimes outside, too. It's hard not to glare at the accompanying parent(s), or worse, lack thereof.
But I realized something today: It's not usually the fault of the kids. They don't know any better, because they haven't been taught. They've learned that it's okay to scream in a restaurant or cafe because they don't get hauled out of there, which is what would've happened to me if I'd ever gotten stroppy in a coffee shop.
This kid's mom and grandma (from the looks of them) went on eating and half-assedly trying to silence the kid: A shush here, a bite of food there, the occasional use of the pacifier. It didn't work. Kiddo needed to be taken outside where (1) he wouldn't be a nuisance to the other patrons and (2) he could get an age-appropriate talking-to about how we shouldn't keep other people from enjoying their lunches.
Once I'd jammed my noise-canceling earbuds as far down my ear canal as they'd go and cranked up the death metal, I started to feel sorry for the little dude. I mean, here's a kid who's learnng that it's okay to act like a douche becuase you'll get away with it. He might even grow up to actually be one. Think about the douches you know. Chances are, they're not happy people. Kids who are allowed to be d-bags probably won't grow up to be happy people. And, I dunno, whenever I consider the possibility of spawning, I'm afraid to do it because I'm afraid the kid will grow up as maladjusted as I am.
I guess this is just a really wordy way of saying bratty kids should be pitied, not punted.
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