Sunday, June 7, 2015

The Horrible Bitch at the Park

I came home this weekend to be with Cyrus. We had a wonderful time playing and watching Ghostbusters. Until today.

You see, we were up at Art in the Park. He was tired, and it was balls hot outside. So, we headed toward the playground where exactly 1 million sweaty kids and 2 million sweaty parents crowded into the shade of trees and play equipment.

Cyrus was running around, like (totally fucking normal) kids do. I was admiring his ability to climb and slide and not fall over anymore when he runs. Just a year ago, this park would've been scary for both of us. He had trouble negotiating uneven surfaces, and little bumps from some other kid might send him reeling sideways and onto the ground.

Since he was wearing a neon yellow shirt, I let my eyes look away for a moment or two then heard some dad yelling, "that kid's kicking him!"  I could tell by his voice he meant someone was injuring his child, so I looked for the horrible thing that could be happening. I see a kid and Cyrus behind him on the slide. They're both sort of inching their way down, on their butts. I guess it might look like a kick at first glance, but you know, if you wait just a second, you can see what's happening.


Both kids were smiling.

And suddenly, the Horrible Bitch echo's her husband,, "He's kicking him!"  And she runs, with her hand raised and her voice raised, toward Cyrus. I sprinted over in front of him. But it was too late. This Horrible Bitch was yelling at my son, "YOU DON'T KICK!" And she grabbed her kid (who was clueless).  I looked right at her and yelled, "I'll yell at my son."  To which she replied, "Then, maybe you need to."

The rage in her voice and face was just...awful. So, I picked up Cyrus from the bottom of the slide. And started to walk away. This Horrible Bitch was white. And wearing one of those workout baseball hats and running shorts and a matching tank top and had on sunglasses and pony tail. You know the kind.

As I walked past her with son in my arms I said, "He's special needs."
And she said, "Then maybe you should watch him better."

I kept walking and heard her husband say, "I understand."

The only thing for me to do was burst into tears. Mom and Aunt Judy were off getting some food, so I just stood there holding in sobs. Cyrus noticed and asked if I was sad. Then he pulled up my sunglasses, "Let me see your tears, Mom."

This happened at Noon today. Since then, I've packed up and driven back here to Arkansas for work. I had 5 hours in a car to think about all this. And just cry. Here's what I came up with:

1. Why did I say he was special needs?
      Because he is, isn't he? He has a feeding tube, he's practically legally blind, and he runs funny. Like I said before, I was standing in amazement earlier as he looked like a normal kid playing. I said that to hurt her. To make her feel shame for trying to parent someone else's kids. To say it in front of the myriad of people watching our interaction. (I remember her face when I said it. I was looking right at her, but she didn't look at me. Just clenched her mouth and jaw and nodded her head just a bit. Just trying to think of the next horrible bitch thing to say) And he's been a super dick lately, really. I'm sure he's just going through something, like kids do, but every time something happens with him, we always assume the worst. Maybe his behavioral issues are in his brain and he can't control them because...

2. Why did I cry?
      I know sometimes people cry when they're mad. I'm not usually one of those, so what happened? I still see him as fragile and special. By special I mean a fucking miracle of science and love. When she yelled, with her hand in the air, I didn't see my 5 year old son on that yellow slide, but a tiny fetus attached to all those tubes. How dare she threaten such a little, precious being. It was repulsive.

3. Who the fuck does she think she is?
    There is no way I would yell at someone else's kid like that unless someone was about to be seriously injured. Again, the rage in her voice, in her whole body. The way she moved toward him, too, so deliberate and aggressive.

So that's what I cried about and obsessed over for most of my day. I've replayed it in my head a million times. The revisions I've added are as follows:

1. She touches me, in any way, I tackle her so hard her body makes that horrible noise
2. She touches Cyrus, in any way, I punch her in her fucking nose and the crowd around us cheers
3. I walk up to her and get right in her face and say, Fuck. You.
4. My dad's there. We all end up in jail.
5. The crowd, seeing it all happen, jump in an humiliate her until she cries and has to leave.
6. Her husband actually has someone in his family who is also special needs. He sees her true character and divorces her ass, taking the nice kids and raising them to be wonderful humans.

I guess this is helicopter parenting at its finest. Just hovering, waiting for some perceived threat to happen, so she can jump in and defend her child. Or maybe she's just a sad housewife who has nothing else to do but buy those matching outfits and tell other people what a shitty job they're doing of parenting.

Or maybe, and I think this may be it, she's a horrible fucking bitch who leads a miserable life.


  1. I think she's just a basic bitch, the must basic kind, like dumbed down cliffs-notes-style to be consumed and discarded by the masses.

  2. Just remember you're okay and Cyrus is okay! (And so's the other guy too...and the kids were even smiling!) There's always gonna be people like that, is what I've learned. I think you handled it great, btw. And I have learned that there is no possible way you can watch these little guys every single second even when you're trying really, really hard...even when you're right there beside them! So absolutely do not beat yourself up over this ONE woman. You did just fine. I've got another story, but I gotta go right now.... I just wanted to say, as a parent, you did just fine. It's all good. That stinks when one person ruins your day like that though. Your stories still crack me up somehow...I mean, how many times has this stuff happened to many times! Glad you're both okay though. I think you kept your cool well, under the circumstances.

  3. You did handle this the right way. I'm sure it took a lot of restraint not to verbalize every emotion you had at that moment. This bitch you encountered reminds me of the bullies from the good old days and serves as a reminder that some of them continue to bully throughout their lives. I feel sorry for the husband and other child in this situation... God only knows how fun it must be in their household. As for your approach to the situation and to your parenting of Cy, those who know you are undoubtedly proud of you. That's how I feel about that! :-)

  4. Sometimes I like to think of what I call "the worst case scenario," for instance, suppose Cyrus was kicking the other kid, which can sometimes happen that a kid does not always act the best or the way you would have wanted, you know (I say with a smile because mine are older now and I know these terrible instances, if we can make it through them as they are happening, become a good laugh or fodder for stories later); but, say he was kicking, and maybe the other kid was even crying (which is clearly not the case here), but what I'm trying to say is that even that is really just a learning experience...they would learn that people sometimes even unintentionally hurt others and you have to try to watch out for that, that people don't usually enjoy being kicked by others, that people don't usually like being yelled at, that people can overreact...It kind of makes you wonder why she overreacted...was her kid recently kicked by someone else and she assumed the worst and took it out on Cyrus and you? It reminds me of when my friend took her boys to the beach one time and was relaxing when she noticed the look of disgust on everyone's face and turned to see the horrible thing they were looking at and it was her young son peeing on the beach in front of everyone. She went to claim him as hers and had to gently explain that you can't go potty on a public beach. It would have really frightened her little guy though if someone else yelled at him in front of everyone!