Losing your mind…
… but not losing your sanity
I’m not losing my mind. I refuse to do it. I’m not going to hold it in and lose what little sanity I may have anymore.
It all starts with a small peep. A loathsome little blip on the auditory radar that nicks at ones proverbial last nerve. And that’s how it started.
It’s a small child. A cherubic little boy who is out for an event with mommy and daddy. He can’t be more that two years old. Maybe only eighteen months. It’s hard to tell at that age but he’s walking, and smiling, and chatting with his parents as they walk through the entrance door. He is a happy little chap as he spends this evening out with mom and dad.
Once one is a parent, one learns the first rule of parenting which is “no other parents parent the correct way.” Your way is the only correct way. Billions and billions of children have been raised incorrectly because they weren’t raised the way you raise your own children. And for that matter, even you yourself, as a young tyke, weren’t raised correctly either. After all, isn’t that why all of us so emphatically state that we are going to do things differently from our own parents?
That being said, and trying to remember judge as little as possible, who am I to question the parenting skills of this young tot as they enter the big glass doors just before ten o’clock at night. I will admit to thinking that this child should be in bed but it wasn’t my decision and his parents certainly did not ask for my opinion. I will say he was bright eyed, happy and quite content to be out on this evening about town with mommy and daddy. However, that was soon about to change. The monster in him would arise.
You see, this young little guy’s parents decided to bring him to a summer movie, a loud, action-packed R rated movie. And everything these two people thought was a good idea about this plan was about to come crashing down, not just for them but for all us in the theater. It was a pot on a stove, filled with water and amassing a slow boil.
The little man sat only two rows in front of my group. He was enthralled with the giant screen and those amazing moving pictures. At first it was cute as we wondered if this was his first movie. He whispered quietly to his parents about whatever enchanted him in the previews. He sat quietly through the credits most probably amazed at the fancy moving letters on the screen. How that popped on and disappeared so quickly. And all of us breathed a huge sigh of relief as we realized our worst fears were not coming true. He was a charming little person who’s parents knew what to expect.
Ten minutes in to the movie, all hopes, all dreams, all enjoyment came crashing down with the first tiny scream. He wanted a drink. He wanted a drink NOW. He wanted a drink of pop. He didn’t want a drink of milk. He wanted daddy’s “pop pop” and he wanted it “NOW NOW NOW!” Three minutes of quiet movie enjoyment followed before the next wail began and this drawling cry made the very tips of all my nerve endings quickly fray. It was at this moment, this very scream, that I realized we were in for a very long and bumpy ride.
Mommy and Daddy made no attempt to carry Junior from the theater. They made no attempt to placate him so the rest of the theater could enjoy the show. It was as if they were immune to his moaning and whines. It had no impact on them at all! They stared at the screen while the rest of the crowd stared at the three of them. The first moments in a situation like this are for people to say “How dare those people bring a small child to a late night movie like this! It’s not his fault!” But that sentiment quickly fades and is then replaced by “Take that little demon out of here NOW you senseless dolts!!”
The rebellion had begun against the three. People began to stir and talk. A couple of people departed to the lobby to, we assumed, get an usher to talk these nuts out of the theater. But, no, they had escaped. They probably even got their money back! Then the comments from the back of the theater started. Directed at these ignornant so-called parents. “Take him home!” “Tell him to shut up!” And the parents? They sat their with their smug faces staring at the screen while the little devil sobbed and moaned and begged for mommy and daddy to take him “night night.”
I almost lost my mind that night. My group finally agreed it was best for all involved to depart the movie. We left with another foursome who shared our auditory sickness.
We got our money back from a teenager who couldn’t care less about what was going on in theater number eleven. I’m sure his eighteen year old manager couldn’t care less either. I’ll never know if the young man was escorted out or how many people remained for the entire show. Maybe he finally fell asleep in those luxurious theater seats. One thing I do know for sure is, those parents raised their kid wrong and I will never raise my kids that way. My way is the right way.
