July 22, 2007

SUNDAY, JULY 22, 2007

It's not how you pick your nose, it's where you put that booger that counts.
- Tre Cool

I won't use today's post to go into a long rant about how much I loathe some people's kids, I'll do that some other time...but I will say that today I got damn tired of watching the brat at the table next to us running around like a crack-fueled weasel and decided to try stopping him myself.
While trying to enjoy a quick brunch at a local diner, I began to get pretty irritated by this one little red-haired 'imp'. He never sat down in his seat ONCE. He sassed his doormat of a mother more than once. He banged into several folks chairs, nearly knocked over a waitress and finally, spilled his whole glass of Coke across the entire table, soaking both parents and a younger (and endlessly whining) sibling. Neither parent ever raised their voice above an ineffectual whisper. Either the parents were unaware of or were ignoring the angry mumbles and glares they were getting from other diners. He kept slipping in and out from under the table and at one point, caught me staring daggers at him. He stuck his tongue out at me. That's when I figured I'd give a shot at keeping the little twerp in his booth and away from the rest of us. I smiled sweetly at him, crooked a finger in his direction so he'd come a bit closer and then, leaning out of my booth, hissed to him, "If I were you, I wouldn't go under that table again...there must be a thousand boogers under that table and who knows what you'll catch if one falls in your mouth." To my surprise, he ran back to his table and, after dragging the younger sister out and climbing back into position, did not get out again for the duration of the meal. I may not know a lot about kids, but I know they understand the power of a booger. How do you think I keep my kid out from under the restaurant tables?