sssssssmokin'
As I promised (my sanity) yesterday, Connor and I did indeed trek out of the house today, and went to a nearby playground that's probably got indentions from Connor's buttcheeks in the swings by now. But, unlike every other time we've been there, there were other people using the playground. I saw them as we pulled into the park. 'No problem," I thought. 'Connor's played with other kids before.' Besides, it's fun to see him interacting with other kids anyway, as long as they aren't telling their younger siblings to hit him in Chinese, like a certain brat we met in Norcross this summer.
So, I parked the car and we walked over to the playground. As we got close, I noticed that it was an entire family, two children and both parents. But, there was something a little off about the scene. The kids were in the kiddie swings and the parents were off on the "big kid" swings. As soon as they saw me, they got off the swings, the mom returned to the kids and the dad walked away from the playground (toward nothing), looking back over his shoulder a few times like I was his probation officer and he was supposed to be somewhere else. Also, they were both smoking. How cool! I mean, I've seen it in the movies, but it's always fantastic to meet a smoker in real life — especially around little kids. It's so glamorous.
Once "jumpy dad" realized that I apparently meant no harm to him, he returned, lit another cigarette and made a noticeably half-assed attempt to play with his son. About five minutes later, he walked over to a picnic table and promptly fell asleep. Cool. Guess he'd had his fill of family time for the day.
At any rate, I was a little more than annoyed about the smoke, but instead of making a scene, which I very seriously considered, I kept Connor away from them until they were done. I hate to admit it, but I was totally judging these people. I was so angry (and rightly so) that their kids were being subjected to their brainless habit, but realized something and I stopped myself...eventually. These young parents (they looked no more than 22 years old) were probably products of the very same type of parenting themselves. They, like their kids now, probably had little or no chance to escape their parents' mistakes, and that scares the crap out of me. Sure, Stacey and I don't smoke, but I'm sure we have our own share of harmful lifestyle choices (although I'll continue to defend my right to eat four sticks of butter for breakfast until I die). That's probaly the scariest part of parenting to me. The bumps and bruises I can very easily get past. After all, I kept my folks a little busy with plenty of emergency room visits for stitches, casts and crutches (sometimes all in one trip). How do you keep your kids from doing the same dumb crap you do?
At the end of the day, though, I just hope Connor doesn't turn into this kid...
Or this kid, while we're at it...
Uh, or this guy...
Bad judgment?
So, I parked the car and we walked over to the playground. As we got close, I noticed that it was an entire family, two children and both parents. But, there was something a little off about the scene. The kids were in the kiddie swings and the parents were off on the "big kid" swings. As soon as they saw me, they got off the swings, the mom returned to the kids and the dad walked away from the playground (toward nothing), looking back over his shoulder a few times like I was his probation officer and he was supposed to be somewhere else. Also, they were both smoking. How cool! I mean, I've seen it in the movies, but it's always fantastic to meet a smoker in real life — especially around little kids. It's so glamorous.
Once "jumpy dad" realized that I apparently meant no harm to him, he returned, lit another cigarette and made a noticeably half-assed attempt to play with his son. About five minutes later, he walked over to a picnic table and promptly fell asleep. Cool. Guess he'd had his fill of family time for the day.
At any rate, I was a little more than annoyed about the smoke, but instead of making a scene, which I very seriously considered, I kept Connor away from them until they were done. I hate to admit it, but I was totally judging these people. I was so angry (and rightly so) that their kids were being subjected to their brainless habit, but realized something and I stopped myself...eventually. These young parents (they looked no more than 22 years old) were probably products of the very same type of parenting themselves. They, like their kids now, probably had little or no chance to escape their parents' mistakes, and that scares the crap out of me. Sure, Stacey and I don't smoke, but I'm sure we have our own share of harmful lifestyle choices (although I'll continue to defend my right to eat four sticks of butter for breakfast until I die). That's probaly the scariest part of parenting to me. The bumps and bruises I can very easily get past. After all, I kept my folks a little busy with plenty of emergency room visits for stitches, casts and crutches (sometimes all in one trip). How do you keep your kids from doing the same dumb crap you do?
At the end of the day, though, I just hope Connor doesn't turn into this kid...
Or this kid, while we're at it...
Uh, or this guy...
Bad judgment?
posted by Carter at 9:53 PM
3 Comments:
I ALSO used to valey at Emory back in the day (Premier Valet, anyone?). For some reason, they did all their training there at the hospital. So, to get you prepared for handling the fancy schmancy cars of multi-millionaires at the Buckhead life restaurants, they let you practice on 1986 Ford Escorts with overflowing ashtrays and small animals living under the seats....
I remember getting in a car one time that was crawling with cockroaches. I couldn't get that car across the street fast enough.
And I also remember cars pulling in that were smoking, figuring that it was just the old car and engine that was smoking. And they'd turn it off and smoke would keep coming out of the windows...and then the doors would open and the Phillip Morris clan would get out. Aha, source of smoke found!
Would you like a photo of Indian Larry for your gallery?
Uhhh, "valey?"
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