Like an Infant Werewolf at a BrisI wrote this on a little thing called a "notebook" with an actual "pen" (remember those?) on the bus last night, on the way from DC to New York City. I'm cooling it in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, aka hipster heaven, the densest concentration of white men that have never, ever won a fight in all their lives.
"Can I still buy a ticket for the eight o'clock to New York." I asked the ticket counter lady. It was 7:58.
"No," she replied, "but I can sell you one for the nine o'clock and if the eight is still out there, you can get on it." Bus rides are like that.
"I'm gonna need my headphones for this one," I thought as I stepped on the bus. Sometimes you can just tell. I invested in a giant pair of padded monsters at Radio Shack a few months back, a pair big enough to allow me to safely go out and bring in a plane with a few glowing cones if the situation were to arise.
I sure enough did need 'em, too. Some kid up front has been howling like a baby werewolf at a bris. I'm talking about nonSTOP. From the sound of it, his parents haven't even tried to clam him up, either.
I'm not a parent myself, so I don't really know how these things go. I made a little pact with myself once my friends started having babies that I'd try not to critique someone else's parenting skills without developing a few of my own first.
Maybe this kids' folks are just numb to his shrieks, or he's autistic or something, or they just know it's useless. But man, this little dude SUCKS.
My mom tells me that both my sister and I had our miserable moments when we were little. Apparently I didn't sleep through the night until I was three years old. Two little terrors, and at least I turned out fine. Seriously. I'm TOTALLY NORMAL.
I also made a pact with myself some time back never to spank my children out of anger or in public. Nothing sucks like seeing some toddler get jerked and whapped at the grocery store, and Simmermons don't play that. I earned a few beltings when I was little, but my folks always talked it over first and made sure that my behavior had been, in fact, a spankable offense.
My disciplinary tactics will be much more subtle, and much less embarassing in a crowded grocery store or on a bus full of people heading to New York for New Years' Eve.
When my kids are acting up, I'm simply going to pull a plastic bag over their heads for no longer than a minute. If the offense is particularly bad, I won't keep the bag on there any longer. I'll just throw a spider in there, too.
It's not going to happen often. It may only happen once. After that, all I'll have to do is pull a filmy little plastic bag out of my pocket and crinkle it menacingly. You best believe the shrieking will stop then, and QUICK.
I think I've got one on my messenger bag, actually. I'm going to go offer it to this kid's mom right now.
Before I go, Happy New Year to all of you. I'll let you know how this turns out.