First World Problems: Woes at the Symphony

It should first be noted that I don't dislike all children. In fact, I quite often talk about the most adorable one of them all on here. Maybe that's because she's related to me.

I dislike bad parenting. With that said, proceed.

S and I decided to be festive and classy this holiday season and add a trip to the symphony to the Christmagenda. We were pleased when we found out our moderately priced tickets were in close proximity to the stage. Our happiness semi-ended there.

Sitting next to me was an innocent enough looking family of four. Dad-Child 1-Mom-Child 2, sitting in that order, Dad sitting next to me. This was until the music began. Child 2, sitting the furthest away, decided that the music was his cue for playtime. Child 2 was about 5 years old.

He first starts to run in the very narrow and limited space between his mom and dad doing some sort of tap dance, until he climbs in his dad's lap where he decides that jungle gym would be a fun game to play at this moment. Dad doesn't protest. Child 2 begins to twist and contort his body in awkward positions; his favorite one being where his head was almost in my lap, looking up at me, hand outstretched in front of my face, obstructing my view of the stage.

What in Hades was going on here?!

If that were me at 5, my parents would've promptly taken me to the lobby for a "talking to." And by talk, I of course mean spanking.

But that would never be me. Because unlike these parents, my parents were well aware that a symphony is not a place to take your 5 year old child. It's called a babysitter and/or finding another family-friendly holiday activity. Like the Zoo lights. Or Peacock Lane. Or PIR lights. Or anything that's not using my lap as an extended part of dad's jungle gym. How inappropriate of the dad to think that his child's head in a female stranger's lap is acceptable behavior. I glanced over at the mom and saw she was wearing a knitted stocking cap. At the symphony.

We were dealing with hippy parents. AKA Let my child do whatever the [obscenity] they want. Discipline will only taint their artistic vision.

[I think Fred Armisen should really consider this as an upcoming storyline for 'Portlandia' .]

In addition to this being brutally annoying, I of course couldn't stop laughing at the Dad's content with the situation and this child looking up at me with his upside down eyes. It was weird. I looked over at S to only hear her start to laugh too. It was like that scene from Seinfeld where Jerry puts the Pez dispenser on his knee and Elaine starts cracking up laughing during the maestro's performance. Except our "Pez dispenser" was an overgrown 5 year old.

When the symphony began to play Tchaikovsky, I knew I would kill this kid if he ruined it. Instead, a 60 year old woman 3 rows in front of us did. And why? Because of a 4 year old kicking her seat.

"This isn't working!" She whisper-yelled at the mother holding the 4 year old. "She will not stop kicking my seat!"

She turned back around to face the stage, but only for a second before she returned to yelling. I wonder what she would've done if she were sitting in my seat...

When intermission came, we for sure thought they'd be leaving given the restlessness and disinterest of their children. We instead heard the worst words ever uttered: "Oh no, it's not over. It's just break time. They'll be back."

We looked at each other, exchanged a wordless message, and found different seats.

I know I'm not a parent and I don't know what it's like to have children. But I have parents. The best ones, in fact. And they taught me how to behave in public. If yours can't, leave them at home. Or better yet, teach them. With a good old fashioned spanking.