A Long, Old Story
Posted by nullipar-tay
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A Long, Old Story May 17, 2011 |
True but old story. And it's a long one. Still, had to share. I hope it amuses. 
Many years ago, I was a lifeguard at a public community center. I was the only adult lifeguard they had, so I ended up working during school hours. Homeschooling families would bring their kids in, especially in the winter when we'd cover the pool area with a 'bubble', making it indoors for the season..
Our community center was old, built in a poor community that got annexed by a very prestigious nearby city with their own PGA golf course next door. They had their own high-priced, snooty club for these stuck up famblees and their brats. But when moos got tired of the crowd, they'd come to our community center and 'slum it'.
And I had one family I loathed with every bone in my body. I called them TSM's - The Screaming Meanies. It was bleach-blonde, still trying to look 20 (and failing) moo, and her four trophies: a newly shat loaf (name unknown), a boy brat, James, (7?) and my least favorites, the two sisters: Madeline (4) and Caroline (6).
These were, to date, some of the worst behaved fucking children I'd ever had to deal with. The nightmare routine played out all spring and summer long. TSM Moo and her shitlings would come early, dragging in a sack of kinderspullen (and in the summer, we hardly had room for the visitors, much less toys), and the fighting would start immediately.
Moo would sometimes offer a weak, "James, stop. Madeline, stop." But these fucking hellions (loaf excepted - it was usually pretty chill and locked into its carrier) infuriated me. They'd run around the edge of the pool, chasing each other, ignoring us when we'd whistle or tell them to stop. They couldn't swim, but liked to haul ass down near the deep end of the pool.
Our pool was only 5.5 feet deep, and not olympic-sized. Not a huge pool. But James liked to try to knock or shove his sisters into the water, usually while mom was asleep working on her tan, or on her cellphone, turned away from where she should be watching them.
The lifeguard staff was forever shooting daggers at the entire family, or trying to keep the brats in line so nobody got hurt. I kept waiting for an accident to happen, but it never did. These kids often fought, violently, hitting, kicking, and spitting at each other. :mad2
And they did it to Moo, too. They'd kick her, hit her, spit on her or bite her on the few occasions where she'd actually try to discipline them. It was clearly too little, too late. She didn't even bother anymore. Madeline was an ugly, nasty little troll of a she-brat, and she screamed and cried at the tops of her lungs whenever she wasn't getting what she wanted (which was often). She had just the right pitch to make your brains scramble.
Caroline was a mean she-brat, who openly pointed at and made fun of overweight people, bullied her sister, and taunted her mom by purposefully doing the opposite of what her mom said, then sticking out her tongue and running away. Moo was in no shape to chase her.
James was a pint-sized tyrant who liked to get violent. Period. He was into pummeling his sisters, but would actually whine and cry whenever they attempted to defend themselves or reciprocate. Even when other families would stop and glare at Moo and her family from hell, she completely ignored them. She also ignored her kids during their screaming, wailing, violence, and dangerous antics. Like I said, hell on EARTH.
Winter came one year, and nobody was coming to the pool much, even though it was covered. I sat up on the lifeguard stand alone for hours, sometimes. But one day... to my horror and surprise... TSM fam comes dragging into the bubble, just as they had all summer long. I was alone with them. No other lifeguards or staff were anywhere near the structure. It was just me, and the family from hell.
They got into the area, plopped onto some deck chairs, and immediately, the kids started fighting. They were in the chairs behind me, behind my stand, so at least I could look forward at the pool and pretend not to see them. Sound really carries under that bubble, and Madeline was screaming bloody murder over something, and James was beating up on Caroline.
Moo was frustrated and sighing, weakly trying to tell them to stop. The kids hadn't even gotten fully unpacked when the punching, kicking and wailing was in full force. I could see enough from the corner of my eye, and I did look over at Moo wearily, with a "really?" expression.
Moo threatened to take them all home, and the kids went running down to the far end of the pool area, near the deep end, of course. There, they carried on as per usual, cackling, fighting, crying and screaming. James and Caroline finally decided to swim, and they came back to the shallow end and got into the water.
Where they started fighting in the goddamned pool. I blew the whistle on them and told them 'no way'. They got bored swimming soon after, and started running around the pool deck again and spitting at each other. Madeline ran after them, wailing because she wasn't getting attention.
Moo was actually yelling at them, threatening them... Caroline stuck out her tongue, and they all went back to roughhousing. I wanted to nuke them all from orbit. The noise had reached a crescendo, they had started slapping each other, and Moo was still standing just behind my stand with loaf. She was close enough to me, that I could see that she was trying not to cry. Without thinking, I said to her quietly, "I would have gone insane by now."
Moo was still trying not to cry. "I...I can't get them to behave. No matter what I do... and in places like this, you can't really punish them without someone reporting you to child services." I knew what she really meant. Slowly, I turned around in my stand to look down to her. I removed my glasses, and said, dead-on: "...I don't see anyone else here, and I'm certainly not going to say a word."
Moo's face went slack. She blinked at me, and nodded, almost in a trance. It wasn't even 60 seconds before she was striding down the deck. That woman snatched James' arm, jerking him towards her, and she lit his ass UP. The looks on the faces of all three brats was EPIC.
Their eyes were as wide as saucers, stunned, and after she beat James' ass so hard the blows were echoing, she heaved him into a chair, and snapped up Caroline's wrist. The girl was too shocked to think to move, and mom had her screaming from the ass whooping in two blows. Madeline saw what was coming and RAN, crying in terror. But Moo actually overtook her stumpy legs, and dragged the blonde brat across her knees in a chair, wailing on her ass as well.
"Now we're going home!" Moo barked at them. "Pack your damn toys. NOW." And the kids, all three crying, packed up the kinderspullen and started limping off to the bubble exit. The Moo walked over to pick up the carrier with the loaf, looked at me, and nodded. She didn't come back on any of my shifts ever again.
I know it's horrible of me, but I can't remember ever feeling so vindicated in this kind of situation.
Many years ago, I was a lifeguard at a public community center. I was the only adult lifeguard they had, so I ended up working during school hours. Homeschooling families would bring their kids in, especially in the winter when we'd cover the pool area with a 'bubble', making it indoors for the season..
Our community center was old, built in a poor community that got annexed by a very prestigious nearby city with their own PGA golf course next door. They had their own high-priced, snooty club for these stuck up famblees and their brats. But when moos got tired of the crowd, they'd come to our community center and 'slum it'.
And I had one family I loathed with every bone in my body. I called them TSM's - The Screaming Meanies. It was bleach-blonde, still trying to look 20 (and failing) moo, and her four trophies: a newly shat loaf (name unknown), a boy brat, James, (7?) and my least favorites, the two sisters: Madeline (4) and Caroline (6).
These were, to date, some of the worst behaved fucking children I'd ever had to deal with. The nightmare routine played out all spring and summer long. TSM Moo and her shitlings would come early, dragging in a sack of kinderspullen (and in the summer, we hardly had room for the visitors, much less toys), and the fighting would start immediately.
Moo would sometimes offer a weak, "James, stop. Madeline, stop." But these fucking hellions (loaf excepted - it was usually pretty chill and locked into its carrier) infuriated me. They'd run around the edge of the pool, chasing each other, ignoring us when we'd whistle or tell them to stop. They couldn't swim, but liked to haul ass down near the deep end of the pool.
Our pool was only 5.5 feet deep, and not olympic-sized. Not a huge pool. But James liked to try to knock or shove his sisters into the water, usually while mom was asleep working on her tan, or on her cellphone, turned away from where she should be watching them.
The lifeguard staff was forever shooting daggers at the entire family, or trying to keep the brats in line so nobody got hurt. I kept waiting for an accident to happen, but it never did. These kids often fought, violently, hitting, kicking, and spitting at each other. :mad2
And they did it to Moo, too. They'd kick her, hit her, spit on her or bite her on the few occasions where she'd actually try to discipline them. It was clearly too little, too late. She didn't even bother anymore. Madeline was an ugly, nasty little troll of a she-brat, and she screamed and cried at the tops of her lungs whenever she wasn't getting what she wanted (which was often). She had just the right pitch to make your brains scramble.
Caroline was a mean she-brat, who openly pointed at and made fun of overweight people, bullied her sister, and taunted her mom by purposefully doing the opposite of what her mom said, then sticking out her tongue and running away. Moo was in no shape to chase her.
James was a pint-sized tyrant who liked to get violent. Period. He was into pummeling his sisters, but would actually whine and cry whenever they attempted to defend themselves or reciprocate. Even when other families would stop and glare at Moo and her family from hell, she completely ignored them. She also ignored her kids during their screaming, wailing, violence, and dangerous antics. Like I said, hell on EARTH.
Winter came one year, and nobody was coming to the pool much, even though it was covered. I sat up on the lifeguard stand alone for hours, sometimes. But one day... to my horror and surprise... TSM fam comes dragging into the bubble, just as they had all summer long. I was alone with them. No other lifeguards or staff were anywhere near the structure. It was just me, and the family from hell.
They got into the area, plopped onto some deck chairs, and immediately, the kids started fighting. They were in the chairs behind me, behind my stand, so at least I could look forward at the pool and pretend not to see them. Sound really carries under that bubble, and Madeline was screaming bloody murder over something, and James was beating up on Caroline.
Moo was frustrated and sighing, weakly trying to tell them to stop. The kids hadn't even gotten fully unpacked when the punching, kicking and wailing was in full force. I could see enough from the corner of my eye, and I did look over at Moo wearily, with a "really?" expression.
Moo threatened to take them all home, and the kids went running down to the far end of the pool area, near the deep end, of course. There, they carried on as per usual, cackling, fighting, crying and screaming. James and Caroline finally decided to swim, and they came back to the shallow end and got into the water.
Where they started fighting in the goddamned pool. I blew the whistle on them and told them 'no way'. They got bored swimming soon after, and started running around the pool deck again and spitting at each other. Madeline ran after them, wailing because she wasn't getting attention.
Moo was actually yelling at them, threatening them... Caroline stuck out her tongue, and they all went back to roughhousing. I wanted to nuke them all from orbit. The noise had reached a crescendo, they had started slapping each other, and Moo was still standing just behind my stand with loaf. She was close enough to me, that I could see that she was trying not to cry. Without thinking, I said to her quietly, "I would have gone insane by now."
Moo was still trying not to cry. "I...I can't get them to behave. No matter what I do... and in places like this, you can't really punish them without someone reporting you to child services." I knew what she really meant. Slowly, I turned around in my stand to look down to her. I removed my glasses, and said, dead-on: "...I don't see anyone else here, and I'm certainly not going to say a word."
Moo's face went slack. She blinked at me, and nodded, almost in a trance. It wasn't even 60 seconds before she was striding down the deck. That woman snatched James' arm, jerking him towards her, and she lit his ass UP. The looks on the faces of all three brats was EPIC.
Their eyes were as wide as saucers, stunned, and after she beat James' ass so hard the blows were echoing, she heaved him into a chair, and snapped up Caroline's wrist. The girl was too shocked to think to move, and mom had her screaming from the ass whooping in two blows. Madeline saw what was coming and RAN, crying in terror. But Moo actually overtook her stumpy legs, and dragged the blonde brat across her knees in a chair, wailing on her ass as well.
"Now we're going home!" Moo barked at them. "Pack your damn toys. NOW." And the kids, all three crying, packed up the kinderspullen and started limping off to the bubble exit. The Moo walked over to pick up the carrier with the loaf, looked at me, and nodded. She didn't come back on any of my shifts ever again.
I know it's horrible of me, but I can't remember ever feeling so vindicated in this kind of situation.
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Re: A Long, Old Story May 17, 2011 |
What a beautiful story!!!!!!
wink Too bad it doesn't happen any more often.
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If YOU are the "exception" to what I am saying, then why does my commentary bother you so much?
I don't hate your kids, I HATE YOU!
wink Too bad it doesn't happen any more often.------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- -------
If YOU are the "exception" to what I am saying, then why does my commentary bother you so much?
I don't hate your kids, I HATE YOU!
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Re: A Long, Old Story May 17, 2011 |
I do wish this kind of thing happened more often, but I've never seen it like that again. As a matter of fact, right after I quit that job, my husband and I were at a restaurant, and got into a really embarrassing confrontation with a famblee. That's another story, and with a sad ending, as it taught us the lesson that even if you see kids about to hurt themselves in public, it's probably smarter to just let them do it. 
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Re: A Long, Old Story May 17, 2011 |
nullipar-tay, that was a great story. Now that was another example of a good, old-school ass whipping. 
larious It's too bad that unlike a generation ago, a parent's hands are tied when it comes to discipline.
You'll have to tell us the restaurant story whenever you get the chance.
larious It's too bad that unlike a generation ago, a parent's hands are tied when it comes to discipline.You'll have to tell us the restaurant story whenever you get the chance.
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Re: A Long, Old Story May 17, 2011 |
I'll bet that was a day those little shits will NEVER forget. 
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I know, I know. "You were one once." I was a sperm once, but you don't see me wantin' to cuddle up to a fuckin' wankstain, do you? - John Constantine
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I know, I know. "You were one once." I was a sperm once, but you don't see me wantin' to cuddle up to a fuckin' wankstain, do you? - John Constantine
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Re: A Long, Old Story May 18, 2011 |
Quote
CherryBlossom
I'll bet that was a day those little shits will NEVER forget.
This.
lab mom
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Re: A Long, Old Story May 18, 2011 |
Thanks for the fun responses. I'll go ahead and tell the restaurant story, though as much as a wuss as it makes me, it still makes me uncomfortable to think about.
Around the same time as I was getting ready to leave the lifeguarding job, I was hitting severe burnout (as any CF person might). My boyfriend (now husband) decided to take me out to my favorite restaurant one night after a really long day. I loved PF Chang's, and we only had one in our area. The wait without reservations or call-ahead seating could be 2 hours at times. I was exhausted, sun-cooked, and had listened to and held vigilance over 100+ kids that day. (Camps used to bus them to our pool)
We called ahead, so our wait would only be 10 - 15 mins. When we got there, it was a huge freaking zoo. There was no real 'lobby' to wait in - people were lined up on either side of the entry walls. Opposite my boyfriend and I was a huge family. Mom was a trophy wife, sporting giant bling and manicure, Dad was a tall, tanned CEO-type. They had another three adults with them... but there were also four kyds.
The kydz were already hyper, being loud and almost tripping the waiters coming out of the kitchen nearby. This part I own, here and now: The last thing I wanted to do was deal with fucking kids. I'm sure it was written all over my face, and I was probably scowling. The Moo laughs and says, "Would you like one?" (About the kids!) And I shook my head, managing a tense smile. "Nooooo thanks."
We ended up waiting 30-40 minutes. Right when we were being seated, so was the family -- near us. The parunts get the great idea that the adults will sit at one table, and the kids will sit at their own... closer to us than to their parents. This alone wasn't an issue. Honestly, the kids were calmer, and once seated, weren't loud or problematic. I'm trying to ignore them.
At one point, after our drinks had come, I look over. The waiters have brought the four brats their drinks with little paper umbrellas on them. The kids seemed to be in the range of 4 - 10 years, and one of the older ones takes his umbrella, and starts sticking into the candle on their table!
I started to sweat. I tried to look away, but that instinct to avert disaster was winning out, to the point that I couldn't take it anymore. A second child had joined in the fun. They hadn't caught the trinkets on fire yet, but it was only a matter of time. My boyfriend is irritated by it, and concerned, so after watching me twitching in my seat, he leaves the table, discreetly moves over to the Dud, kneels down beside his chair, to warn him about the kids and the fire.
No big deal, right, though the adults give us both looks afterward. The Dud doesn't do squat at first, but appetizers are coming out, and he goes over to 'check' on them, taking the the umbrellas to give the kids 'more room' to eat. He shoots us a look.
Five minutes after this, once the appetizers at the kids' table are devoured, the oldest brat reaches over, and starts to stick his plastic-lacquered chopstick in the candle flame. The adults are having drinks at their table, totally ignoring the kids. I start to twitch again. Here's where I made the mistake. When our mutual waiter came by, I quietly warned him that he may want to blow out the candle once the food comes for the children.
I don't know what the waiter said to the Dud, but he threw his napkin down on the table, stormed over to ours, jerked a chair out, turned it around, and plopped down, and proceeded to make a scene, snarling at us and ripping us a new one. What was our problem, we should mind our own business, etc.
I continued to eat and totally ignored him, but my poor boyfriend was the one getting the brunt of it, and he was like a deer in headlights. We were both shaken up. The asshole gets out of the chair, tells us to just eat our dinner, slams the chair against the table, and storms back.
The waiter tried to play it off, but we did end up finishing and leaving immediately. We didn't go back for over five years. NEVER again have I interfered when a child is about to get hurt, but their parunts are supposedly "supervising" them. The asshole did take the chopsticks away from the kids on his way back to his table.
I am still really embarrassed about it. There are a million things we wished we had said, later, but we hadn't managed to say a fucking word at the time. So, yeah, never again.
Around the same time as I was getting ready to leave the lifeguarding job, I was hitting severe burnout (as any CF person might). My boyfriend (now husband) decided to take me out to my favorite restaurant one night after a really long day. I loved PF Chang's, and we only had one in our area. The wait without reservations or call-ahead seating could be 2 hours at times. I was exhausted, sun-cooked, and had listened to and held vigilance over 100+ kids that day. (Camps used to bus them to our pool)
We called ahead, so our wait would only be 10 - 15 mins. When we got there, it was a huge freaking zoo. There was no real 'lobby' to wait in - people were lined up on either side of the entry walls. Opposite my boyfriend and I was a huge family. Mom was a trophy wife, sporting giant bling and manicure, Dad was a tall, tanned CEO-type. They had another three adults with them... but there were also four kyds.
The kydz were already hyper, being loud and almost tripping the waiters coming out of the kitchen nearby. This part I own, here and now: The last thing I wanted to do was deal with fucking kids. I'm sure it was written all over my face, and I was probably scowling. The Moo laughs and says, "Would you like one?" (About the kids!) And I shook my head, managing a tense smile. "Nooooo thanks."
We ended up waiting 30-40 minutes. Right when we were being seated, so was the family -- near us. The parunts get the great idea that the adults will sit at one table, and the kids will sit at their own... closer to us than to their parents. This alone wasn't an issue. Honestly, the kids were calmer, and once seated, weren't loud or problematic. I'm trying to ignore them.
At one point, after our drinks had come, I look over. The waiters have brought the four brats their drinks with little paper umbrellas on them. The kids seemed to be in the range of 4 - 10 years, and one of the older ones takes his umbrella, and starts sticking into the candle on their table!
I started to sweat. I tried to look away, but that instinct to avert disaster was winning out, to the point that I couldn't take it anymore. A second child had joined in the fun. They hadn't caught the trinkets on fire yet, but it was only a matter of time. My boyfriend is irritated by it, and concerned, so after watching me twitching in my seat, he leaves the table, discreetly moves over to the Dud, kneels down beside his chair, to warn him about the kids and the fire.
No big deal, right, though the adults give us both looks afterward. The Dud doesn't do squat at first, but appetizers are coming out, and he goes over to 'check' on them, taking the the umbrellas to give the kids 'more room' to eat. He shoots us a look.
Five minutes after this, once the appetizers at the kids' table are devoured, the oldest brat reaches over, and starts to stick his plastic-lacquered chopstick in the candle flame. The adults are having drinks at their table, totally ignoring the kids. I start to twitch again. Here's where I made the mistake. When our mutual waiter came by, I quietly warned him that he may want to blow out the candle once the food comes for the children.
I don't know what the waiter said to the Dud, but he threw his napkin down on the table, stormed over to ours, jerked a chair out, turned it around, and plopped down, and proceeded to make a scene, snarling at us and ripping us a new one. What was our problem, we should mind our own business, etc.
I continued to eat and totally ignored him, but my poor boyfriend was the one getting the brunt of it, and he was like a deer in headlights. We were both shaken up. The asshole gets out of the chair, tells us to just eat our dinner, slams the chair against the table, and storms back.
The waiter tried to play it off, but we did end up finishing and leaving immediately. We didn't go back for over five years.
NEVER again have I interfered when a child is about to get hurt, but their parunts are supposedly "supervising" them. The asshole did take the chopsticks away from the kids on his way back to his table.I am still really embarrassed about it. There are a million things we wished we had said, later, but we hadn't managed to say a fucking word at the time. So, yeah, never again.
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Re: A Long, Old Story May 18, 2011 |
nullipar-tay, you're welcome. Your boyfriend totally sounds sweet. 
Yeah, I agree that in some situations, you *have* to look out for the kids. If the parents can't/won't, then who will? Keep being awesome. ^_^
Yeah, I agree that in some situations, you *have* to look out for the kids. If the parents can't/won't, then who will? Keep being awesome. ^_^|
Re: A Long, Old Story May 18, 2011 |
As far as the restaurant story goes, that is also why I would never say or do anything to stop a kid from hurting itself. Because Moo and/or Duh will storm over and scream bloody murder at ME for daring call their parenting into question by telling their kid to not do something or warning others about it. If a kid is about to bust his head open, not my problem. Sorry if he gets hurt, but I'm sure as fuck not CF so I can be in charge of the safety of other people's kids.
It's also why, despite knowing CPR, I would never use it on a stranger. Too many assholes who will sue over a fractured rib despite their lives being saved and I refuse to pay to save someone I don't even know. Fuck 'em - they can find someone else to puff air down their throats.
Breeders don't like when people have the balls to call them out on their neglect - it means not only is someone in "the village" not doing their part, but also questioning their parenting techniques. And that's like a kick in the balls for either Moo or Duh (whether or not they have actual balls). So rather than admit they made an oopsie, take the advice and remedy the situation...they bitch out the person and not the kids. They can't admit their error, so they make it seem like the person who noticed is a mean asshole. How dare you try and interfere with his kids' attempt to get hurt and thus win a settlement from the restaurant!
eyes2
It's also why, despite knowing CPR, I would never use it on a stranger. Too many assholes who will sue over a fractured rib despite their lives being saved and I refuse to pay to save someone I don't even know. Fuck 'em - they can find someone else to puff air down their throats.
Breeders don't like when people have the balls to call them out on their neglect - it means not only is someone in "the village" not doing their part, but also questioning their parenting techniques. And that's like a kick in the balls for either Moo or Duh (whether or not they have actual balls). So rather than admit they made an oopsie, take the advice and remedy the situation...they bitch out the person and not the kids. They can't admit their error, so they make it seem like the person who noticed is a mean asshole. How dare you try and interfere with his kids' attempt to get hurt and thus win a settlement from the restaurant!
eyes2
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