Saturday, June 22, 2013

The Children Are Our Future

It  was such a lovely morning.  We were given last minute tickets to a screening of Monsters University (thanks, Kate!), a blessing because I wasn't looking forward to a string of days being asked when we were going to see it.  The screening including free snacks and drinks, so we happily munched our way through a  movie that only required 1 bathroom break.  Then we wandered through the mall to a couple kid-related stores (come on, like I was going to deny my children a trip to the Disney Store after sitting mostly quietly  for almost 2 hours) and had Taco Bell for lunch.  That's pretty darned perfect outing, yes?

And then we went out to the car to find a piece of paper flapping under my windshield.  My first thought was, "Oh no, someone hit my car and left me an apology and hopefully some insurance information."  But a quick look around showed no damage.  So I opened the note.  Written on torn out spiral notebook paper in pink bubble letters was some of the foulest (sailors-blushing level) language I've ever read accusing me of improper parking that resulted in the writer requiring police intervention to get into her vehicle (this is an important distinction - to get INTO her vehicle in the first place, not out of the parking space).  

Me being me, I immediately wondered how badly I must have parked to cause such a situation.  And I would totally own up to it, too, but I truly could not figure out how in the world my parking job could have blocked a person out of her - and yes, I'm going to go ahead and say this was a teenage girl based on the evidence and my incredible powers of deduction - car.  I was between the lines and nowhere near the cars parked on either side of mine at the moment.  Also, there was no ticket, so (again with the powers of deduction) either a) I was parked legally and the police had no reason to cite me, or b) there were no cops*, you lying lying liar.  

Still, this took a bite out of my happy day and put me in a funk for the rest of the afternoon, which is probably what Barbie McPottyMouth wanted in the first place.  But what truly bugs is that this is what some young girl thinks is appropriate conduct.  I hate that she's learned to deal with frustrating situations by spreading nastiness and garbage.  I doubt that such behavior would make her mother proud.  I can't imagine her thinking it a fine idea to teach her daughter the same way to handle a frustrating situation.  It just makes me sad.

Since I can't address this paragon of virtue in any other way, I leave my thank you note here.

Dear Parking Lot Compadre,

Let me just say that I appreciate the effort it took for you to pen such an impressively vicious letter.  Your use of expletives was extensive, if not overly creative.  You took time out of your precious day to share humiliation, shame, and disgust with another human being.  How kind of you to write all that down instead of telling my directly in front of my children, lest they forget.  Such an eye for posterity you have

I hope that your future studies help you craft your gift of eloquence.  Perhaps you will go on to develop your own personal oeuvre of profanity that generations to come will use to spew maliciousness, maybe even to your own children.  I will be sure to use your seminal work here to teach my family the finer points of spite and malice.  You are a true wunderkind.

My sadness is that I cannot assist your progress through the gift of a dictionary so that you can look up all the words in this message that you probably don't know and also start your journey to proper spelling.  I also wish you well in your inevitable enrollment in defensive driving, because if you park in such a way that you cannot physically enter your car (from either side, really?), then surely you will become quite familiar with the class.  Go forth and prosper.

In Between the White Lines, 

The Lady in the Properly Parked Minivan

*I'm guess the "cops" were either a figment of her imagination or the mall security guy on his Segway.

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