Whenever my husband and I talk about our children, we usually say things like, “I sure do love my children, but they are little hellions,” or “I know your pain–my six year old still poops his pants and then wipes his butt by scooting down the carpeted stairs.” This is probably why no one will babysit our kids. Which is why we don’t go on dates frequently.
It’s also the reason why I don’t take my kids out in public often.
A long time ago, I learned it was much easier to stay home rather than try to brave an outing at a restaurant–especially those sit-down kinds. Sometime this year (I can’t remember if it was my birthday or one of the kids’) we decided to have dinner at Cottonpatch Cafe. Not only did we eat dinner, but we also endured one hour of mental torture. Sometimes I just would rather have a bad case of gonorrhea.
But even that wasn’t as bad as a couple Sundays ago when I took my youngest out of Sacrament meeting (worship services) because he was being a noisy turd. You see, while I was in the foyer contending with him my middle son walked out too. I tried to get him to go back and sit with his dad, but he flat out refused by saying, “Daddy told me I couldn’t go back in.” Later I asked my husband what happened and this was his response:
“Well, you see he was being rude. I was sitting there minding my own business when out of no where he stood up on the seat next to me and let out a huge FART! And it stunk too! And it wasn’t like a huge fart where I was the only one who heard it–it was so loud that the people in front of me and behind me turned around to look at him because it sounded like he crapped his pants.”
I shouldn’t have even asked.
As a parent I feel guilty for not having taught them manners well enough. I mean, they are so embarrassing. And annoying. Which I know none of y’all have ever thought about your own kids. But can you blame me? I’ve never taken Cotillion lessons. So occasionally we’ll go out in public with all them, but only if my husband is coming or will be there already.
A couple weekends ago we decided to do just that and went to a KIDFISH event sponsored by a local town and local Chevy dealerships. At least that’s what the sign said. Basically, they stock this huge pond with 1000 catfish the day before the event and then invite local kids to come out and try their hand at fishing. I took my boys since their dad was going to be there, but we didn’t have much luck in the fishing department. Especially after someone else’s rotten kid threw a bunch of bread into the pond and it attracted at least a dozen ducklings. People.
I was not about to hook a baby duck.
So, I took the boys and we walked over to where my husband was helping people get their fishing poles and measuring caught fish. We started up a conversation and that is when I saw my youngest chasing an adult duck. I didn’t try to stop him–I was actually hoping the duck would snap at him. This guy in the foreground closest to the camera, you know the closest butt, was just watching to make sure my kid didn’t jump in the water after it.
Even though my boys didn’t catch anything in the way of fish, my youngest just happens to be a master bug catcher. Here he is showing off a jumping spider to a group of strangers working the event (and me staying far, far away).
Lessons learned: Going out with my kids can be fun if I take the following into consideration.
- Just walk away from others’ annoying kids (like when some city kid throws bread right where I’m fishing–hello!).
- Let my annoying kids learn from their mistakes (like when I say to quit chasing ducks)
- When my kids have annoyed me enough, allow them to annoy complete strangers. I mean, I ain’t never gonna see those people again (that was fun watching that chick’s face as my kid showed off his jumping spider).
- That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.