======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
I was brunching so hard yesterday when the buzziest buzzkill of all-time sat down next to me: group of three adults with a baby. I thought to myself, “Alright, Will, this won’t be so bad. Everything will be fine.” But before long, the woman seated next to me had this little mongrel sitting directly on the table where he sloppily ate Cheerios and made weird baby noises that I’m unaccustomed to because I rarely chill with babies.
“Are you alright?” I asked the person across from me while I hate-drank my grapefruit beermosa.
“No, this is fucking awful,” she responded amidst shooting lighting bolts out of her eyes at the troll crawling all over the table and spitting up on itself while we tried to stomach our brunch.
So there we sat, splitting overpriced avocado toast and pancetta Eggs Benedict while these new parents ran a damn daycare out of table 14 for the duration of our meal. As I signed the check and pounded the remains of my cocktail, I had a burning feeling of hatred for this this innocent child that had completely (and unintentionally) ruined what I consider to be my most sacred event of the week: brunch.
See, this little guy, he had no idea what he was doing. As his mom shoved cereal into his mouth and let him play with every utensil as if she had brought them in her toy bag, he ignorantly did what all babies do: be a baby. So as I was fostering all this hatred for a 14-month-old who didn’t know any better, I had the realization that the real people I should be spewing hatred for are the parents.
It’s not that I hate babies — I actually love them — but I only love them in the appropriate setting. If I get invited to a dinner party or barbecue at someone’s house, I expect my friends with newborns to let those little dudes tag along. After all, they’re probably still too young for a babysitter and new mothers and fathers want to show off the literal fruits of their labor.
But, somewhere along the way, babies started popping up anywhere and everywhere. Airplanes, restaurants, bars, movie theaters. Fucking everywhere.
When I’m sitting on a flight and a new mother walks on with her 8-month-old daughter, you can almost audibly hear every passenger give a heavy sigh and a “Are you fucking kidding me?” as she attempts to shove the diaper bag and collapsable stroller into the already jam-packed overhead compartment. We all sit there saying, “please don’t sit next to me, please don’t sit next to me,” before the plane takes off and our pleading turns into, “please don’t cry, please don’t cry.” And guess what — they always cry. Because they’re delicate little creatures on loud-ass air torpedoes going 700 miles per hour. Frankly, I usually want to cry on airplanes too, so I can’t even blame them.
Furthermore, when I’m at a bar at 4 p.m. on a casual Saturday, don’t post up next to me your kid strapped into its Baby Bjorn and then hush me when I say “hell” or “damn.” Yes, I realize I’m not supposed to be swearing in front of children, but in that same breath, your kid has no business being in an establishment where everyone’s modus operandi is pounding drinks that can’t be sold to anyone under the age of 21. Like, what are you doing trying to get a buzz on in public with your kid strapped to you? I have trouble keeping track of my wallet when I’m buzzing, and I’m not trying to tell you how to parent, but I don’t think it’s the safest thing in the world for you to be putting back bloodies with that delicate of a being attached to your person.
Please, just please, choose an alternative location to entertain your child who is completely unaware of his or her surroundings. A park, a McDonald’s PlayPlace, a playground, whatever. Just not a place of business populated with a bunch of people who are absolutely dreading the thought of having a kid because of some drunken mistake they made a few weekends ago after Ubering home with their dance floor makeout.
I’m not trying to tell anyone how to parent, but like, maybe just get a babysitter. And if your child is too young to be left with a babysitter, what makes you think they’re old enough to be at a nice restaurant or quiet movie theater? We all make personal sacrifices. It just so happens that while my sacrifice is splitting a tab where I didn’t get as much as everyone else, your sacrifice is staying at home until your kid is old enough to behave itself in the presence of other adults who are trying to relax.
So, next time you think it’s a good idea to bring your kid to a highly-regarded brunch spot on a Sunday morning, have some sympathy for the rest of the world. Have some sympathy for the people with hangovers that may not want loud crying noises or distractions in the corner of their eyes throwing up on themselves. Take into consideration that your 18-month-old may harsh the mellow of my $18 breakfast, and that no waitress wants to deal with a baby taking up a valuable spot at a table that most people are waiting 45 minutes to drink bottomless mimosas at.
Just for God’s sake, stop bringing your baby everywhere. .
Also read My Dream Job Is Being A Stay At Home Dad.
Image via YouTube
Respond
Will
Will (Twitter / Instagram) is the host of The Sunday Scaries Podcast.
@willdefries
@willdefries
defriewf
will@grandex.co
Every time a baby cries in a restaurant I audibly voice “shut that kid up”. I have no shame.
Easiest way to keep children away.
Dorn?
#preach.
And we’ve found the true have, have not dividing line on PGP.
If your kid is young and sleeps all the time, enjoy your brunch quickly and leave. If it’s teething, just learned to walk, or is anywhere from 12 mos to 4 years, don’t GTFO – of your house that is.
I really don’t have a problem with parents who bring their kids around. The problem is when the parents don’t know/care how annoying their child is to people around them (because they’ve likely become used to it). General rule of thumb: if the behavior, such as banging spoons on the fucking table, wouldn’t be acceptable for an adult, it’s not acceptable for your child to do either.
Part of being a parent means having responsibilities. One of those responsibilities is not bringing your irritating offspring into establishments where it can annoy many other people.
Related story: Some friends and I once got a family to an Irish pub because they found our language and conversation “rude” (they told us as leaving.) What they were doing there with their very young kids on St. Paddy’s day in a college town is beyond me. I was proud, not ashamed.
I hate babies. There I said it.
These are the confessions I wish I had to the courage to make in public.
ya gotttaaaa see thaaaa bayyybeeeee- elaine voice
fuck kids
Thank you for writing this! You’re not a dick
Why don’t you read this over again when you have kids and see if it still makes sense. Dick.
I doubt having kids automatically deleted the ability to have common courtesy. Your baby doesn’t want to go to a fancy restaurant, or arrive on vacation via airplane. You do. And you’re making your kid and everyone else around you miserable. Stop being such a selfish asshole.
I don’t think brunch and airplane are on the same level. If a kid starts being a twat and a parent gets up and removes the kid from brunch, whatever, it’s not like they’re tethered next to you on a 4 hour flight where any such curtesy is impossible.
I have kids, homes. While I don’t think you need to get all bent out of shape about the mere presence of a baby at the table next to you, you don’t need to bring your fucking kids everywhere. Fortunately, mine are very well behaved and not loud (generally, and not to pat myself on the back as it is certainly not anything I did as a parent) so we can bring them some places other parents could not. If they get fussy or annoying, we are OUT of there ASAP.