I hate it when toddlers and young children shriek in a public building, or in fact any building that contains me. For a long time, I figured this branded me as one of those intolerant child haters. Then, I realized that no, it really isn't that as much as it is the noise factor. Shrieking toddlers hurt my ears. Maybe it's the frequency they yell on, but I've had toddler shrieks that have caused my ears to ring for two days. (Yeah, I've got a fluid problem, so once my ears begin to ring, it takes a lot longer than it does for some people to get rid of it. One of the reasons why I must have steady noise in the background to fall asleep.)
I realized that I yeah, I had legitimate reasons for hating kid's shrieking indoors when I discovered that while I always will hate toddler shrieking in a building, I find it amusing as hell when I'm outside and the noise doesn't bounce off walls.
Yeah, I'm probably the worst person to run into outdoors with your shrieking toddler, cause I'm the woman who's ducking behind a car so you won't see I'm laughing my buns off. No, I'm not blaming your lack of parental skills. No one can keep a toddler/small child from going into shriek mode once in awhile. Since chances are you're a stranger, I have no clue, maybe this was the first time he/she has done this in months. Or, maybe the kid is a bit sensitive and everything tips him/her off. And yeah, Mothers... I know the last thing you and your kid need is to see some woman hidding the giggles watching your kid melt down.
Why I laugh is because when a toddler melts down it's just...awesome. A toddler just throws their whole self into everything, so if it's meltdown time, every single bit of them will melt. They will yell, scream, turn bright red, stomp and kick. Snot will bubble out of their nose, tears will stream from their face. Blood vesils will burst under their skin because of the presure. Every fiber of that kid's being is focused on melting down.
And if you can say to them, "Hey, what's this all about?"
They're likely to say, "I DROPPED MY COOKIE!"
And that, is just so darned awesomely funny to me. But in a cool way. It's gotta say something decent about us as a species and how we rear our young that something like a dropped cookie can be the most horrible, terrible, mindbogglingly awful thing to happen to you that you totally lose control. You gotta figure that hundreds of years ago, a dropped bit of food was barely worth a tear. A full blown meltdown was reserved for the real stuff, like you entire family getting trampled by a Wooly Mamoth. We've made life so fantastically good for children, that until they get older and are forced to go into the real world without their parents to cushion them, the worst tragity that can befall them is a dropped cookie. And it doesn't even have to be the last cookie in the box! Even if there is an entire box full of the same type of cookies, the kid will still melt down. The parents can offer them another, identical cookie and it won't help! The kid will scream louder, "I don't WANT THAT COOKIE, I want MY COOKIE!"
So, today, we go to the grocery store to pick up scripts and food. We do that, cause we're good that way. As we're loading up our car, these people pull up in another car. They have a female toddler in the back seat. Before they have even started to pull into the spot, I can hear toddler in meltdown mode. I'm looking at Todd going, "Aw, crap, we have to unpack quick, cause I can't laugh...the parents will want to kill me."
So, of course every bag we had went into conspiracy mode and became slippery so it would take twice as long to load it into the car.
Meanwhile, parents are parking the car, daughter is shrieking. But this kid's shrieking is really....different.
This kid is swearing.
I kid you not. This kid is going, "Whaaaa! FUCK YOU! Whaaaa! WANT (insert name of something I couldn't quite make out. Might have been ice cream, might have been a pony, might have been a Dora the Exporer crack pipe.) FUCK YOU! HATE YOU! FUCK YOU! I WANT __________ Whaaaa! I FUCKING HATE YOU! Whaaaa! FUCK FUCK FUCK!"
And yeah, okay, I understand that this is really bad news. No one is going to look kindly on a toddler that sounds as if she has turets syndrome. And her parents should be smacked upside the head because she's learning this language from someplace. Even if the parents don't swear, a toddler's parents have ultimate control over exactly what influences this tiny human being will encounter. So, yeah, if a Toddler is using that language, it's the parents fault. Even if they don't use it themselves, they can find out who does and no longer allow their child to associate with those people. However, this is not my kid. It is not related to me. This child does not belong to a friend, or anyone else that is associated with me. In other words, her foul little mouth is totally and completely not my problem! Therefore, I can't help but find this horribly amusing. It's like the world's funniest tragity unfolding before my eyes. It reminds me of the time I saw someone run their car into a jersey barier, because they got distracted putting on their seatbelt. Yeah, it's really not funny, but yet it is. Cause it ain't you, it's them.
So the parents get out of the car. Kid is still shrieking. Mom is trying to take the bundle of joy out of the
No shit, no ass, no damn no hell. Just Fuck. Over and over again.
I'm trying to tell myself that this poor kid is doomed for a pretty bad life unless someone teaches her better. I'm telling myself that laughing makes me an evil person. I can't help it, it's taking everything I have to not burst out laughing. Todd and I are not looking at each other, cause we don't want to laugh.
Dad comes back with cart. They put kid in the cart. Kid shrieks another round of "FUCK YOU!" etc. as parents get her in the cart and strap her in. We finish loading car. As we're starting to get ready to get into the car, parents wheel her right by Todd.
Todd looks at the parents, grins and says. "Wow, what a cute little girl, you must be so fucking proud!"
I totally lose it and throw myself in the car so hopefully, they won't see that I'm mere milimeters away from peeing my pants in fits of hysterical laughter. Todd gets into the car. I say, "What did they say? What did they say?"
Todd goes, "They gave me this shocked look like they couldn't believe I was using that language around their kid."
So yes, I am going to hell. You don't have to tell me I'm going to hell, I'm fully aware of it. But there's nothing I can do. This whole sutiuation was just too funy not to laugh.