SAHMs & Their Precious Little Booger-Eaters

Don't forget to read Part 1 before reading today's conclusion to A Day at McDonald's.

And now, after a month's absence due to SOCOM 3 addiction, here is the conclusion to A Day at McDonald's, or

Stay-at-Home-Moms and Their Precious Little Booger Eaters at the Playland.

The glut of handicapped seating forced me to the playland section. I ventured beyond the clear plastic partition that barricades the handicapped people (how lucky are they?) from the din and frenzy of the little devils. Playlands are the Viet Nam of the under-8 demographic. I just happened down the Ho Chi Min trail and into Kiddie-Saigon. I found a booth on the southeast perimeter with no sign of Victor Charlie nearby. I pounced on it. It wouldn't be there long as it offered patrons the maximum distance from the playland. Once I settled into the booth, things weren't too bad. The prepubescent VC were a click west in the playland. The noise level was tolerable. I had a comfortable booth seat. Time for me to lock and load some chicken nuggets.

Safe in my foxhole, I ate. The nuggets had a previously frozen, processed taste. The fries – arguably McDonald's best menu idem – were undercooked. They had traces of green potato, glistening in vegetable oil. Oh yeah. This is why I don't like McDonald's. I'm never coming back, I thought. I gagged my rations down and cracked open my book, Freakonomics. I planned to make a big dent in the book this afternoon. My eyes scanned the pages. After a few paragraphs about how blacks are mentally inferior to whites (Oops! I'm sorry. I'm confusing Freakonomics with The Bell Curve. In Freakonomcs, blacks are more likely to be drug dealers. My mistake.) my mind focused. My brain devoured the text. I stopped only for an occasional sip on my diet soda. Before long I needed a refill. I sashayed to the soda fountain and topped of my glass. I'll be damned by what I saw when I returned.

Evidently, Victor Charlie decided to move in on my position. Two little booger-eater bastards were playing in my booth! The two little tykes, maybe 40 pounds apiece, where standing and wandering about in my seat. Undeterred by my personal effects on the table or by any sense of decency or by a conscientious parent, they played with reckless abandon. Even as I approached, they played. They didn't give a damn. They just didn't give a damn. And though they were small, they were old enough to know better. Get outta my booth, you little bastards.

In the neighboring booth sat four stay-at-home-and-suck-your-husband's-cock-twice-per-month moms. Seconds before, when I was reading in my child-free booth, I had to tune out their lofty intellectual dialogue about hair care products and reality programming. Now I had to hope one of these bovine was the aloof mother of the two pint-sized Cong so she could tell them to stand down. I entreated the SAHMs with a stare. No response. I moved closer to my table. Nothing. I stood at my table. Still, nothing. The kids played and moms ignored. Surrendering, I grabbed my book and prepared to leave. Suddenly the kids' mom mustered a shred of maternity. She verbally coaxed the kids down from the booth. “Sweeties. Get down. Come on sweeties. The man is sitting there. Time to get down.” Whoa, take it easy on'em lady. I might have to call Protective Services.

The kids got down. I admit it was no big deal. Kids do stuff like that. But get what happens next. Another of these SAHMs chimes in, “You just don't know what you're going to get when you eat in HERE.” I detected a subtle sarcastic tone.

That comment tore it. That one little comment. It reverberated in my brain for the rest of the afternoon. You just don't know... when you eat in HERE...Here...here... Hey, wait a minute. In that woman's mind, this whole thing was MY fault. She figures I got what I deserved. That's what angered me about the whole affair and that's what moved me to write it down and share it with you. You see, that snarky comment really meant, “Hey you big, dumb guy. How dare you sit in the kiddie section and expect to eat undisturbed? My friend's children are so precious that whatever they do is going to be adorable, including tyrannizing the innocent patrons who have the nerve to sit here and attempt to enjoy a meal.”

As she made her comment, I took my seat and smiled at her. But in my mind I was screaming, Up yours, Tokyo Rose!

This is the kind of shit that puts me at odds with the human race. I expect parents to keep their booger-eaters in check and not dancing on my seat. Is that so unreasonable? But that expectation made me, in the eyes of the SAHMs, a six-fingered rube. I swear, this country needs to rediscover its sense of shame. Nothing's wrong anymore. Especially when kids do it, it's so fucking precious. No matter how irritating or inconsiderate. It's part of that everybody-has-a-valid-point-of-view bullshit. Lady, your kids were making a mockery of civility and an ass out of you. Show due shame. And tell your busybody friend to pop a cork in it. I hope she chokes on her low-fat chicken caesar salad.


The Kept Woman said...

Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...she meant for you as in, "You never know what you're going to eat here because my booger-chomping, deaf-o kids are being pains in the asses and there's no telling what wall they'll climb or booth they'll scale."

Orrrrrrrrrr...maybe that's just the way I think about my kids...

Linda said...

I don't let my kids NEAR the playland...and I avoid it like the plague. I may be a SAHM, but I'm not stupid enough to bring that kind of battle...did it once, learned my lesson. I prefer the drive-thru now.

Mo said...

Just glad you're alive.

NWJR said...

"I hope she chokes on her low-fat chicken caesar salad."

If she's a two-time-per-monther, I bet she doesn't swallow the dressing.

Violet said...

You "sashayed?" Seriously? This I would like to see. Did the Marines sashay in Vietnam?

Thanks for the post... Don't leave us jonesing for that long again, okay?

Blogarita said...

The key is not in being a "sahasyhctpm" mom, but in being a "don't-take-your-kids-to
-McDonald's-more -than-once-a-month" mom. It's such a treat for my booger-eater granddaughter that she actually plays in the PlayPlace instead of the seats.

mcewen said...

Oh dear! I'm here from Steve's as I tagged him. I'm afraid I have to reveal my true colours [nauseous yellowy green] and admit that I am the custodian of a couple of those kinds of junior thugs.

Hammer said...

I hate it when I don't respond with something snarky and mean when people say crap like that to me. It bothers me for a long time.

My booger eaters know better than to go mess with anyone's stuff.

Peter said...

Hi Bugs, you're back and dining out in style again I see.

Fathairybastard said...

You probably expect the little rug munchers to get the same treatment we would have gotten, which would be something akin to a public flogging. We were too scared to act out like that, most of the time. No shame, and no fear. Doesn't boad well for the future.

totallyun-pc said...

I say it serves you right for touching down in a hot LZ. If you'd kept to the hills the SAHM's wouldn't count your rotors and you'd be high and dry before the risers dropped soldier!

Remember... Charlie don't surf!

Anonymous said...

Here in Spain it seems that children are taught from a very early age to get in your way and take no notice of anyone else's needs. It's very annoying. It's not about being a kid or being in McDonald's, it's just basic courtesy - if you're in public, you don't jump about all over other people's stuff.


I'm so glad that my high horse doesn't get through McDonald's doorway.

mist1 said...

Why would you not just drive thru?

Oh great One said...

"In the neighboring booth sat four stay-at-home-and-suck-your-husband's-cock-twice-per-month moms." I hope that comment was only directed at those specific women. Around here it's more like twice a week. :)

Those woment were out of line. I hate when parents do that. I've had them come up to my table while my family is eating and either stare at us or make a play for my kids toys. You gotta CRACK THE WHIP to keep those kids on the straight and narrow!

Scottsdale Girl said...

LBB! YAY you are alive!!!

And also? Who ever expects to read quietly in McDonald's? hmmm? I mean has SOCOM meltorzed yer brain?

I would have grabbed those kids by the scruff of the neck and forcibly removed them, but that is just me,. living dangerously.

Miss Cellania said...

The kids were ot of line, yes, bt the other woan... what did she do to ake yo think she was referring to yo? Thats the kind of thing people say abot the food.

Please excse typos. y keyboard is issing a cople of crcial letters.

tornwordo said...

I would have eaten in the car. I won't even go to a McDonald's with a playland.

Are you done with the game yet? Is it something with a final monster to defeat?

Damsel Underdressed said...

I'm so glad you are alive!

I'm like white on rice with my son. I barely let him talk loud let alone get out of his seat at places like that. I prefer to take him to other places than McDonald's. I've taught him to eat other green and yellow things...guacamole and hummus. Falaffel and white pizza with spinach and ricotta.

Don't leave us for so long again. We missed you!

Shoshana said...

Whatever SOCOM is, I'm keeping hubby away from it. We're still recoving from Starcraft witchery!

SAHMS have way too much time on their hands. I am griping with them because I've upgraded myself to a WAHM. My fault really, but damn if I don't have an aptitude for WAHM kidn of business. It doesn't involve blow jobs either.

My question is, is it alright to scream back at these horrible McDonald children when they screetch so loud, you're suprised there's no explosion of necks all over or pieces of lungs on the floor?

What a horrible sentence structure that is. Man, English is just so hard to learn sometimes.

Or, short of smacking them, can you cuss out the mother's for not stopping their very, very loud children? I don't like to bring my kids to McDo for that reason...they learn the fine art of screetching, and it takes weeks to cure it.

Ari said...

Yeah, as a teacher, it's all I can do not to growl at lil' punks in public places. I'm with you on the HATING that crap. Five more years of old age and I probly won't give a damn what the SAHMs think and do it anyway.

phlegmfatale said...

True dat re: A Day at McD's - what is it with these parents today? They act like their little devils shit platinum, and anyone who disagrees is just an asshole. One day they'll wonder how their children turned out to be selfish ingrate narcissists after all their good and attentive parenting. Serves 'em right, but they're screwing up our culture, in the process. *grouse*

Queen of Dysfunction said...

See? It's stuff like this that makes me use drive-thrus while my kids are chained to each other in the back of the truck.

The first time my kids heard some mom talk to their kids using the word "sweetie" they would be rebelling against my referring to them as "mother fucking tax deductions". Makes me never want to go to McDonald's again.

Anonymous said...

*L* I don't like 85% of other kids and their parents. Usually its not the brats fault its the parents i'd like to slap.

I followed this family around the other day as costco... they were in my fucking way ever step i took.. the father pushed the cart with a "please shoot me" look on his face while the mother admonished her red-headed hellion.. hmm maybe I should blog this lol... all the way... "Dusty, sweetie, don't touch...Dusty get out of the way, no running in here Dusty... Dusty, lets use our inside voices please... blah friggin blah" They finally got in my way once too often and I said sharply, "Dusty! Your Mom asked you to stay BY the cart and NOT to touch!"

Lil Dusty prolly messed his lil pants but he did go stand by the cart quietly and Dad looked EVER so grateful.. and it felt sooooo good!

Mama en Fuego said...

If sucking my husbands dick twice a month meant I could stay home instead of coming to this hell hole everyday? I'd be down with that.