The Attack of the Suburban Toddler

Posted by on Apr 11, 2015 in Blog | No Comments

I met up with a friend at Starbucks where she and I found most of the tables taken by writers crafting screenplays on their laptops. Well, this is Hollywood, after all. At least, the atmosphere was peaceful.

Ritalin-O’s Breakfast CerealAn earlier attempt at getting some writing of my own done was interrupted by a tow-headed three-year-old who was running through the establishment on what appeared to be a Ritalin withdrawal.

He plopped down next to me and started jumping up and down on the bench, then tap dancing, then slamming magazines all over the place. And, the smell suggested that the little guy was not housebroken.

I and a few people seated nearby watched with disgust as he started doing handstands on his table. I imagined the howl of an ambulance siren drowning out his howling as the staff mopped up his blood.

The kid did not hurt himself (awww…) but did get bored and ran over to his (non-observant) mother who said, “Go back over there and sit down.”

Over where?

Over next to me?

Again?

Why, Lady?

What’d I ever do to you?

This continued for several minutes before she finally came over to bring him a root beer and a cupcake with a strawberry baked inside and about 1½ inches of pink icing on top.

Great… just what the kid needs. More sugar!

The kid impulsively jumped up and started to grab some books on a nearby shelf. The mother said in a deadpan monotone, “Sweetie, don’t touch anything with those dirty hands.”

He returned to the seat and repeatedly bounced up and down, up and down, up and down! Every time he plopped his rear end down, the dirty-diaper smell wafted my way.

Overcome with waves of nausea, I considered leaving when a couple Asian girls wearing halter tops and Daisy Duke shorts entered and sat directly across from me.

Okay, I thought, maybe I’ll stay and enjoy watching them… if only I can go for 15 minutes without breathing.

The kid’s mother seemed oblivious to the smell, and just droned on in her monotone as the sugar leeched into his bloodstream and he began hyperactive fidgeting… which included his sliding closer and closer to me.

fear 2

This had to have been some sort of existential test…

Finally, the kid exited with his mother and the PH balance of the atmosphere slowly returned to normal. Or, a reasonable facsimile thereof. I am thinking my next project should be a reboot of Dennis the Menace.

 

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