Babysitting R Not Us

I worked in one of those big-box toy stores that you don’t really see anymore. A mother marches in with three kids, all bouncing with excitement.

Mom: “Okay, have fun! Run around, try everything!”

She waves her hand vaguely toward the aisles and starts walking toward the exit.

Manager: *Stepping in.* “Ma’am, you can’t just leave your children here unsupervised.”

Mom: “I gave them each twenty dollars. They’re not just kids, they’re customers.”

Manager: “Store policy is that anyone under fourteen needs adult supervision.”

Mom: “The oldest one is fourteen.”

Manager: “Really? They don’t look it. I doubt any of them are older than ten.”

Mom: “They’re sick a lot, so they look younger for their age.”

Manager: *Folds arms.* “Do you really want to go down this path?”

The mom’s face reddens. She huffs dramatically and turns back to the kids. 

Mom: “Come on. Mommy has an appointment.”

Kids: *Confused and upset.* “But what about the toys?” 

Mom: “That money was for keeping you busy while Mommy got her hair done. If it’s not going to bring Mommy some ‘Mommy time,’ then it’s not worth spending. Let’s go!”

The kids start crying as she drags them toward the door. At the exit, she spins back toward the manager. 

Mom: “I hope you’re happy, making children cry!”