Momma and the Penis People

Recently, the penis-who-created-the-other-penis people and I took our two young tots to the Hamtramck Polish Festival.  We looked forward to a relaxing day filled with fun and “happy enough to shit a rainbow” joy.  My husband is the link in the Polish chain in our family, though you would never know it by looking at his jet black hair and his dark skin.  His is Polish on his maternal side of the family, though his dark looks come from his father’s side, which is rumored to have a sprinkling of Native American Indian and Hispanic in their bloodline.  The head penis person practically consumed his own weight in traditional Polish delicacies from one end of the festival to the other.  I won’t even attempt to comment on the names of the food he’d eaten, as the combination of all those odd consonants together doesn’t roll of my tongue the way it does his.

While at the festival, I took the older penis person over to ride the bumper cars whilst Jeff noshed on yet another 5 lbs worth of Polish tidbits.  In a line that was longer than I had hoped for, I found myself encountered by a father who was encouraging his preteen son to take cuts in front of those of us who’d been waiting patiently for our turn.  Now, I am by no means a quiet person when faced with unfair or appalling behavior.  But because this was a child, after all, I thought it would be wiser to just assume he was cutting the line in error (although I already knew that this wasn’t the case).  I looked Pops (whom was dressed head to toe in Smurf blue and would soon be referred to ONLY as Papa Smurf by myself) dead in the eye, pointed and explained to his spawn that the end line was alllll the waaaaay back THERE!  Papa Smurf merely rolled his eyes and told his son to stay put.  At approximately that particular moment, my adrenaline already coursing through my veins, I told the child that it wasn’t nice to cut in line, regardless if he had his father’s blessing to do so.

Papa Smurf appeared to hail from a country that is very unaccustomed to their women speaking harshly to them.  He proceeded to curse me out in his native tongue.  I can only guess, based on his tone of voice and the hand gestures he was making, that he was dropping several F bombs, scattered amongst some bitches and whores.  He failed to realize a few things……1) I am a cussing bitch extraordinaire and can go toe to toe, cuss word for cuss word, with ANYONE.  2) I am married to a cop and therefore don’t intimidate easily.  3) If you cuss me out in a language I’m unfamiliar with, the cuss words tend to lose their desired effectiveness.

People in line were starting to pay attention to the exchange between us.  Nicklas was paying attention also and whispered to me “kick his ass, Mom”.  After I’d told him to fuck the fuck off and go to hell, called him Papa Smurf a smattering of times (this caused the folks in line to snicker, of course) and informed him that he was a very shitty parent to instruct his child to ignore common decency and the RULES and cut in front of people waiting in line.  I told him I very much pitied his child for the shitty way he was being raised and that, over my dead body, would his son be getting in line in front of MY child.  Other parents then felt empowered to take a stand (maybe not in the same manner as I, but take a stand regardless) and very soon, Papa Smurf and his spawn were finding themselves at the very end of the line, right where they should have been from the start if Papa Smurf had even an ounce of brains in his head.  It was one of those wonderful, “so happy I could shit a rainbow” kind of moments that I live for and love.

What I learned in this particular situation, and many others over time, is that I have set my child up for a life full of failure after failure.  I have raised him to say please and thank you and excuse me and yes sir and no ma’am……and, it would appear, most of the world does not work that way, nor think those things are important to know.  People who are polite and considerate get trampled in the race of life.  Had I not been there and taken the stand that I had, how many of those good parents would have just seethed in anger quietly, too polite to speak up……too afraid to offend the offensive…..too civil to give that inconsiderate slob in his Papa Smurf costume a piece of their mind???  And what would that have taught THEIR children???  That there’s no such thing as fair?  That rude people can do whatever the hell they want while polite people must move over and remain silent and accomodate them??

From the elderly woman who walked promptly through the door my 6 yr old held open for her without so much as a mumble of a thank you, because she obviously believes its his sworn duty to assist her old ass without receiving any thanks…….to the teenage girls who look my penis child in dead in the eye and then ignore him when he says hello; then when he thinks maybe they didn’t hear him and he says it again, they laugh at him……To the throngs of people who forget that there are people walking this earth that are closer to the ground than they are and they bump my son and keep walking as if he’s made of air, while he says offers and apology or an excuse me sir/ma’am to the person who just stepped on HIM, because he apparently believes HE should have been more careful.   And with each of these instances, and many many more, I take a moment or 20 to catch up with the offender and point out their rudeness and admonish them for having so little kindness and even fewer proper manners…..I am left with a person looking at me like I’m insane to expect such a thing.

And so, I’m beginning to be of the notion that maybe I should re-train Nicklas to be rude and sullen and angry and inconsiderate and disrespectul to his fellow man.  That in a world full of people that don’t acknowledge or appreciate manners, I’ve wasted a lot of years making sure that he has them.   And while I have no issues pointing out peoples’ lack of consideration or manners (both to my children as a lesson AND to the offender so they realize that not everyone could care less), its becoming more and more of a daunting task and, frankly, I’m tired of feeling the need to do it.  Its apparently a losing battle and I’m not sure its even worth fighting any longer.

But there is a glimmer of light that I’m hoping to see at the end of this tunnel……..if each and every parent that reads this would just take time to impress upon their child the importance of being civilized and respectful of one another…..maybe we could turn it all around.  And maybe, just maybe, all the rude people will eventually die (of natural causes, I’m NOT wishing death on ANYONE) and then only polite people will remain.  Think of how wonderful THAT world could be!