BAD KIDS. WORSE PARENT.

After arriving at the airport this evening to find that my flight had been re-delayed (an annoying story for a different time), I made my way to the seating area outside my gate and found a nice quiet place to sit and catch up on some work. No less than five minutes later, a big fat woman and her three fat kids decided the best place to wait would be in the row of seats behind me.

To be fair, there was some reasoning behind her choosing these seats. The same reason I picked them: they're kind of isolated from groups of people. And that's just the type of waiting area required for fat, loud, crybaby kids. It just happened to be my unfortunate luck that I had chosen to sit there first. I didn't see the "fat shouting crybaby kid area" sign.

Normally, I like kids; I think they're funny. But I guess once they reach a certain age (probably about 8-9?) they become loud and obnoxious and--though this may not typically be the case--obese. Of course the loudest of the kids and the mother decided to sit directly behind me, as close to my ears as possible, to ensure maximum annoyance. They began with a ten-minute back and forth about why the girl couldn't have a laptop. The mother's reasoning?

"Well, you could have had a vacation to Las Vegas or a laptop."

Now, I'm not parent, but I'm pretty sure Las Vegas vacations are for adults. If you bring your kids along, they'll have fun because they're kids and there are pools. That's all kids need. But don't pretend that you "gave" them this vacation instead of a laptop. I'm not fooled. That's just poor logic.

Then, after some nonsense babble from the young girl (something about how a girl asked God to kill her brother but she really just wanted her brother to get better and blah blah blah, I tuned out the moral), came the part that made me realize a child is only as bad as its worst parent. A one-way conversation that almost ended with me punching a 45-year old woman in the mouth.

Keep in mind that I couldn't see what was taking place, but this is roughly the conversation that took place and my rough estimation as to what was happening:

MOM: Lauren, your doll is crying. Stop that. Lauren.

I can't hear the doll crying. The youngest girl is lying on floor doing something to her doll that I can't see. She also makes a whining noise.

MOM: Stop doing that to the doll. Stop it. Stop.

Kid apparently does not stop.

MOM: Stop that. Stop doing that to his leg. Stop. The doll wants to sleep. Let him sleep.

The kid doesn't stop; the doll doesn't sleep.

MOM: Stop now. Look at the doll's leg; it's all red. Look what you did to his leg.

Kid continues doing something.

MOM: Stop that right now.

No stopping.

MOM: I'm taking the doll. The doll is mine now.

Mom possibly takes doll. Kid whines. Mom possibly returns doll to kid.

MOM: Lauren, stop that. Stop now. Let the doll sleep. Stop.

Lauren continues.

MOM: Stop mistreating that doll. Look at that leg. Look what you did. Stop it. That's it, it's my doll, I'm taking it.

Mom retakes doll, maybe.

MOM: It's my doll now. You can't take care of it, it's my doll. No, it's my doll. It's mine now. It's my doll.

Mom possibly returns doll, possibly keeps holding doll, kid makes a little crying noise.

MOM: Stop that. Stop it now. Stop. Stop. Lauren, stop that. You're acting like a spoiled little brat. Stop it.

Kid must have gotten the doll back.

MOM: Give me the doll. Give it here. Give me that doll. It's my doll now, no, the doll is staying with me. No. Stop.

If you think this is annoying to read, imagine some fat lady shouting it in your ear. And you might think I'm exaggerating the length of this exchange. But I'm not. It was probably even longer, because when I left the area in a fog of fury it was still taking place. I could see no end to this sequence of ridiculous discipline--if you can even call that discipline--so I had to get up and leave before I shoved that fucking doll in the mom's mouth. It probably would have been better for all involved if I had just taken the doll from both the mother and the daughter, since neither of them seemed to be able to handle having it around. Maybe then they could be quiet and not incite murderous feelings in others.

Holy hell. That was awful. But now I'm alone again in a quiet area several gates from that fat family.

Hopefully they'll sit next to me on the plane.