For the record, I fully expect this list/series to have many, many entries:
The Spoiled Kids
aka: The Prostitots
The Bean and I celebrated our 2 year anniversary recently. Part of his gift to me was watching an angry, teething DragonMonkey while I went out to have a pedicure. It’s been almost a year since I had a pedicure. While I still enjoyed the pampering and the end result of my silky smooth feeties and my sexy, red, flower-painted toes, the experience was ruined slightly by the kindergartener wriggling in the giant spa-chair beside me.
“Mommy, I want Blue, not Pink.” She squirmed at the edge of the ridiculously oversized chair, feet dangling in the water, hands picking at the buttons on the remote. The back of the spa chair buckled, groaned, and writhed impotently, all of the massage functions set to the highest settings.
“But Sapphire, blue won’t look good with your dress, sweetie. You need pink.” Mommy-Dearest dropped the trashy magazine slightly, peering at her daughter over the top. “You need your nails and toes to match your dress. That’s why we’re here.”
I buried my face deeper in a trashy magazine of my own, trying not to gape. REALLY?
Sapphire stuck out her lip in a spoiled pout, but subsided into an uneasy agreement. She kicked at the water slightly, accidentally splashing the manicurist who squatted beside her. Mommy Dearest said nothing, probably because she saw nothing. She flipped the pages in the magazine slowly, engrossed.
Ignoring the splashing water to the best of her abilities, the nail lady did her best to distract the petulant child. “The pink will look very pretty!”
Sapphire pursed her lip, and heaved a long-suffering sigh. She wanted blue, and now she was being forced to wear pink. Life was SO unfair.
“It will look so pretty on your hands and toes! Do you want me to draw a flower for you?”
Sapphire sniffed, nodded slightly, but still refused to answer. I peered in horror from around my magazine at the sight of a fifty year old woman crouching subserviently at the feet of the demanding five-year old child, rubbing scented lotion on stick-thin legs. “Your hair looks so pretty! It’s so sparkly!” Sapphire’s fingers reached up to touch her intricately braided hairdo, each individual braid covered in a glittery sparkle that looked like it was desperately trying to rub itself off any every nearby object. “It’s your birthday, right? Are we painting your nails to match your birthday dress?”
“No,” sneered Sapphire in a remarkable impersonation of a seventeen year old, completely at odds with her dimpled child’s hands and baby soft face. “I’m going to a concert tonight, and my nails need to be pretty too.”
WOW.
I was at Wal-Mart one time, and the family in front of me had an obnoxious little three-year old. It (I say “it” because I truly cannot remember its sex, just its behavior) was unkempt, loud, and overweight for its age. To quiet it, the mother slowly and deliberately opened a roll of Sweet Tarts and fed them to the child, which hopped up and down like a beached seal tossing a ball. My husband and I were incredulous. This seems to be the trend in parenting, to raise little tyrants and appease them with candy or whatever their hearts desire. I applaud parents who have the wherewithal to discipline their children, because there is so little of that.
Oh. My. God.
I don’t think that ‘obnoxious’ even begins to describe this behaviour. Nor does ‘spoiled’ or ‘despicable’.
I am horrified. Mostly at the mother.
@ Anonymous: UGH. I’ve seen that before. It makes my skin crawl.
And I’m with you, Warsaw— The little girl was obnoxious, but at only 5 years old it was obviously not her fault. It was the mom and the entire situation that disgusted me. It’s our jobs to teach children that the world DOESN’T revolve around them, and give them the skill sthey need in order to survive in a fairly harsh world. Teaching them that it’s okay to have an adult slaving over them and attending to their comfort is not the way to do it. It was like watching the worst of my country in a condensed setting. That lady could give seminars on “How to Ensure Your Children Grow Up to Be Whiny Adults with an Overdeveloped Sense of Entitlement.”
Plus, if by 5 she’s already used to pedicures, manicures and concerts… I dunno. It’s kind of sad. What does she have to “look forward” to when she’s a teenager?
The whole situation really depressed me.
I’m a year late but OMG I ♥ you.
Seriously.
Looking forward to following you for more!