Parenting is Not a Spectator Sport

Dear readers: rant alert.

Sitting in a cafe I am trying to relax but I cannot. There is a group of older women staring and talking about me and my two young children. Occasionally they point or make a gesture. I am fuming. Who the hell do they think they are? A few weeks later the same thing happens. And then again, and again. You see, there are people who think that a women (or even a man, I am sure) taking care of her children, or, God Forbid, relaxing while they play with a toy or colour in, is a spectator sport. Some kind of zoo animals to watch and make comments about. If it has been an isolated incident it would have been fine. Just a table full of rude women who think they can loudly talk about us and stare. The entertainment of the afternoon. Do not get me wrong. People are not always being insulting. They are mentioning how cute the children are, talking about what they are doing. Asking questions or talking about their own experiences. But that does not make it okay. We are taught at a young age that staring is rude, because it is. We are taught at a young age that talking about people is rude. As is pointing at people. So why do people think they have carte blanch when it comes to little children and their parents?

I remember being on holiday once when the two women at the next table made nasty comments all through our meal that our baby son should be in bed. It was 7pm and the first day of our holiday. When they had finished their food they came over and cooed over my infant son. Making nice comments and saying he was gorgeous. This after bitching for hours and ruining our meal. Once in the Waitrose Cafe I had two women turn their chairs around to stare at us. I was enjoying myself and my children were behaving. A rare moment of peace. I gave them an evil look, downed my drink and left. Full of rage. Being a parent is hard. Any downtime that is taken from you feels like a theft.

We seem to live in a world where it is becoming harder for people to mind their own business. The truth is: I am sick of being nice to these people. I have been so British about it and just ignored it. Occasionally I have given a look at the very rude people. The ones who do not get the message. Being the bigger person is emotionally and physically draining. So I think that the next people who want to stare at my family and/or make comments will be told where to go. Only when people get called out on their behaviour do they think about what they are doing. Hell, they may even change and become more polite. It is worth a chance.

Has this ever happened to you?

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We thought these greeting cards from TheDogsDoodahs.com were hilarious. They might be funny but they also might lose you a few friends, tread carefully!

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Shag Yourself Slim: The Most Enjoyable Way to Lose Weight

Educational, naughty and fun. This book will surely be appreciated.

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Wholly inappropriate and very funny. Might get you into trouble though….

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Swearing Parrot Keyring

Endless fun and cute too boot.

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The Rude Puzzler

Hours of fun and works the mind too. Just maybe not in the right way.

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Smut {Ceri's Column}

People-watching and eave’s dropping are things I should do more often. These border-line peeping-Tomish pastimes often yield little snippets of gold…hold on, what the fuck is a “snippet of gold”? Is that possible? Am I mixing my damn turns of phrase again… anyway; it’s a great tool for a comedy writer. I try not to look suspicious or blatant or paedophilic when engaging in this important activity. Just the other day I was inadvertently listening to a most wonderful moment.

I was busy loitering in the park, pretending to read a newspaper. I spied a gentleman speaking on his mobile phone. It was clamped so tightly to his ear hole that he must have booked a one way ticket to brain tumourville. He was deeply embroiled in a spat with his significant other. I think her name was Melanie…shit man, he said “Mel”…could’ve been Melville. That doesn’t matter.

“No. No. Look I…no, you’re twisting my words, Mel. Now you’re just lying, for Christ’s sake! Look, she doesn’t even come by anymore. She said her hours have changed and I just don’t see her. No, I do not have her number. So what if she’s pretty? Oh my god, YOU just said she was pretty! Don’t get fucked off just because I agreed you stupid idiot.”

There was a pause

“Did you come? Cool. See you after work.”

After I was done sniggering, I thought, “Hang on, he’s in a park. What is he a ranger?” As he got up to walk passed me, I saw a badge on his shirt confirming this. Shit.

by Ceri Phillips