Nonchalantly telling your child it's ok when they knock a few glass jars of olives onto the floor (where they shattered and spread glassy olives throughout aisle 9) isn't horrible really, but adding, "there are people here who'll clean that up" earns you scorn points!
And I thought I would wear out my scorn gland when you then proceeded to pick up a bottle of bacon bits, open it and stuff your festering gob. Yes, you actually poured bacon bits into your mouth. Well, most of them I imagine landed in your mouth. I know that a lot of them also were added to the glassy olive slurry on the floor.
I know it's not good to judge by appearances, but you seemed like a well-to-do lady, and your children looked healthy and nicely dressed. Maybe it was a bad day. I don' have kids, so I can't know the mental strain that it puts you under.
No, that's not an excuse.
Scorn.
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Tonight I'm feeling massive scorn for parents who allow their small children to take up space right next to the baggage claim belt. Do they really want me to knock precious polly in the head with my heavy suitcase? 'Cause I will ...
With the natural exception of my darling nieces, most of them belong _in_ the baggage.
Don't even get me started on the adorable little tots who writhe in near wordless pain for five minutes before pounding on the airplane wall and declaring a desire to "killll" the pilot because they don't have a window. Too cute for words, really. Except that I do have words... just not ones those kids know yet.
Scorn
Classic!
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