I would like to congratulate the bad parents that were on the plane with me from Fort Lauderdale to Baltimore last Sunday. Kudos to you because you suck. The nice thing about bad parents is that they make you feel less guilty for leaving your kids behind while you drank for three days straight during your "girl’s weekend". Mind you, I call that de-stressing. If I was truly a bad parent I would have taken my kids with me and filled their novelty cups with sea breezes and asked them if they wanted to start smoking. I didn’t.
I think there are all kinds of bad parents. The yellers. The screamers. The ignorers. The hitters. The passive-aggressive ones. The "I really want to be your friend" ones. The "lets always talk in the third person" ones. But my favorite is the "I’m never going to make my child accountable for anything" parent. They are the best.
The lady on my plane was one of those and I’m pretty sure she was also a 7 on the Rancho Coma Scale which means she was " robot-like with superficial awareness, lack of insight to her condition and required minimal supervision due to her poor judgment and problems solving skills". She was really skinny – not in a movie star way, but a malnourished way which made me wonder if she wasn’t eating enough fat to keep her nerves properly myelinated and firing correctly. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t think straight. Or maybe she was just an ass.
When her kids were screaming to one another over the cabin noise. She said nothing. When her kids kicked the shit out of seat in front of them. She said nothing. When they took out their metal tins full of coins and shook them like maracas for 20 minutes. She kept reading her magazine. She chose only to speak when the other passengers started to complain, then suddenly the children she had been ignoring were fabulous human beings that needed defended. We were all "Scrooges" and her "babies" were just being kids. Frankly it was the other passengers and flight attendants not the mother that got the girls to calm down. So to piss off the everyone for daring to do her job, Coma Lady decided that it would be fun to crack her gum for the last hour of the flight.
There was a moment when I contemplated being the bitch. Yet on some level I knew that I wasn’t going to provide any "a-ha" moments to a malnourished, comatose woman. Nothing I would say was going to change her into a good, conscientious parent so I sat there and wrote this blog about her.
The irony is that at the gate prior to boarding, I sat near a family with 2 boys that were doing kung-fu moves for 45 minutes. Real ones involving genital contact, almost losing an eye and trying to flip each other. They had "quit it-stop it-quit it" parents. You know the ones that say that in a monotoned voice but have no intention of actually stopping anything.
When I boarded the plane and was looking for a seat (Southwest doesn’t assign seats) I thought I was being so smart avoiding the Bruce Lee Boys. They were angels on the plane. I should have sat next to them.