Saturday, September 25, 2010

Emily Post Posts On Manners

I was in a hurry this morning, trying to rush The Pony to his band-sponsored car show. Farmer H, newly crowned band booster president, was already there, grilling to feed the band. Actually, grilling to sell concessions to clothe the band is more accurate. It was a HUGE car show. I think 39 trophies were awarded. The Pony was supposed to work in some manner, which neither of us have yet figured out.

Since we were running late, due to the #1 son hitching a ride to grandma's house, I stopped at Casey's for some convenience store donuts. The boys would rather have had the salt and fat from McDonalds, but being a regular health food maven, I decreed that they should have sugar and fat instead. Mainly because McDonald's takes too long.

#1 was sent on the mission. The Pony and I waited in T-Hoe. And waited. And waited. And waited. All of the cars that had been parked in front of Casey's had left. The gas-pumpers had not gone inside. I couldn't figure out what was taking 15 minutes to buy donuts in a convenience store.

A man walked out, dragging a girl toddler, who was sucking on some kind of juice/bottle/convenience store thingy. He reached back in and drug out a slightly larger boy clutching a 99-cent bag of Doritos. Nacho cheese. The boy started kicking the other door. The little girl had a meltdown, stomping and whining and yanking at the door handle. Then she sat down right in front of it. A customer and two workers back from their smoke break in plain sight could not get in. The man just watched. Then the door opened from the inside, and that little girl scrambled to her feet. It was her momma. They went traipsing across the lot.

#1 finally emerged. He rolled his eyes. "I would have been here sooner, except for that crazy family in front of me. That little girl kept throwing a fit, and the boy had to be stopped from stealing things three times, and the woman tried 4 different credit cards that were declined, and then she wrote a check. Which I'm sure is no good."

OK. If you have maxed out four credit cards, maybe you shouldn't be shopping at a convenience store. Maybe you should look into Aldi's or Save-A-Lot, and buy a bag of staples like beans and noodles and peanut butter and bread and milk and some canned vegetables, instead of Doritos and fruity single-serving drinks. Oh. But those stores don't take credit cards. Or checks.

You can be poor, and you can be darn poor...but it doesn't cost anything to teach your children manners.


Kathy's Klothesline said...

Oh, have you ever touched a nerve! I have a new family here for a seasonal site. I really need the income, but I don't think they will last long and I will let them out of the lease. They have 7 grandchildren under the age of 8. The oldest is possessed with a sense of entitlement. No, I think he might really be possessed. These children are left to roam the park at will with very little supervision. Another camper has dubbed them 'the FFA' (future felons of America). So far they have pounded various picnic tables on other sites with hammers, thrown rocks at each other and my favorite ........ they all had pellet guns. The oldest was seen throwing rocks in my pool and when I confronted him he lied and defiantly tried to stare me down (he lost). We have spoken to the patriarch of the clan twice and I haven't noticed any of the other campers attempting to befriend these folk that are surrounded with the FFA. Granpa buys Monster drinks for the #1 grandson and if there is naything that child does not need........ Can I just say that I am not at all impressed with the parenting skills (or, lack of).

Chickadee said...


I'm surprised the clerk took the check...but he probably would have done anything to get rid of them just short of giving them the stuff they wanted for free.

Wonder when those kids will be on America's Most Wanted.

Hillbilly Mom said...

You might as well get ready to scrub some poop off the bathroom walls.

The family will be proud to become celebrities. Maybe they can show up on Maury. Or Jerry Springer.