I have paid extra for seat allocation for my flight since I like having a window seat. A mother and her maybe-ten-year-old son have been seated in the two seats next to me. The mother looks at me, tuts, and just stares at me expectantly.

Me: “Yes?”

Mother: “Well? My son wants the window seat. You need to move.”

If she had been polite, I would have obliged. I might have paid for the seat, but it’s only a three-hour flight, and I know it can be tough managing kids on flights, even short ones, so I sometimes have sympathy. Not with this mother, though.

Me: “No, I don’t think I will. I paid for this seat specifically, thanks.”

Mother: “You heartless b****! My son needs to sit by the window!”

Me: “Then maybe you should have reserved a specific seat like I did. Take care.”

With that, I close my eyes, put on my headphones, and lean my head against the window

A minute or two later, my shoulder is being aggressively tapped. I open my eyes and see the angry mother glaring at me, hands on my shoulder, with one of the flight attendants protesting. I take off my headphones.

Flight Attendant: “—not to touch other passengers, ma’am!”

Mother: “The b**** was ignoring me!

The flight attendant stares pointedly at the mother’s own child.

Flight Attendant: “Ma’am, please calm your language; there are children present.”

The flight attendant looks at me with a sympathetic look.

Flight Attendant: “Ma’am, apologies to interrupt you, but may I please see your boarding pass?”

Me: “Absolutely! I’m always happy to oblige people who ask nicely.”

I present my boarding pass.

Flight Attendant: *To the mother* “Ma’am, this is the lady’s assigned seat, so she doesn’t have to move. Please take your assigned seats and prepare for take-off.”

Mother: “You need to make concessions for my child! He needs the window seat—”

Mother’s Child: “Mom, I don’t care! It’s you who always wants the window seat.”

With that revelation from a thoroughly embarrassed child, I go back to my music, and mother and child take their seats.

After the in-flight meal is served, the mother gets up to use the toilet and the boy speaks to me.

Mother’s Child: “Sorry about her. I usually travel with my dad because this kind of stuff always happens with my mom.”

Me: “It’s okay. It’s nice to know you’ve learned some manners despite… well…”

Mother’s Child: “Yeah… Thanks for standing up to her.”

And with that, he went back to his iPad and I went back to sleep. Stay strong, little man. Keep that apple far from the tree.

My mom loves to tell this story about when I was five or so. She told me to clean my room. I didn’t. After a few times of me ignoring her, she said:

Mom: “If you don’t clean your room, I’ll clean it. And if I clean it, I’m throwing away anything that isn’t put away properly.”

Well, that got my attention. I went to my room for a while and then came back and announced:

Me: “Okay, Mommy, you can clean now. I’ve put away anything I care about!”

To be honest, I don’t remember doing it, but I’m pretty proud of tiny me. Mom thinks it’s pretty hilarious that she got outsmarted by a child.

This was not a plan by my mother to declutter my room. She really did think that threat would get me to pick up my stuff. Besides, my mom is more of a packrat than I am.

This is a story that I have been told over and over, and my mom loves to tease me about it. 

I grew up in a very rural town in Ohio. There was not a lot of racial diversity, and if there were any people who weren’t Caucasian, they were Hispanic. There were no African Americans in town at all.

I was about three years old when we had a missionary from Nigeria visit our church. This man had incredibly dark skin. He was wearing traditional robes that happened to be white. and he was standing at the doors of the sanctuary welcoming people into service. My mom was nervous because kids say stupid stuff and I had never seen anyone with dark skin before.

When my mom and I got up close, I froze, staring up at him.  

Me: *Transfixed* “Mommy? Is the white man an angel?” 

The missionary started laughing so hard that he almost cried. 

Missionary: “Ma’am, I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, including an angel. But your little girl is the first person to ever call me a white man!”

And that is how I called the very first person with dark skin I had ever met… white.

When I was five years old, my family went to dinner at a well-known Mexican restaurant. Our table wasn’t ready, but as a courtesy, they allowed us to sit at a smaller spot and have some chips and salsa — and margaritas for the adults — while we waited.

Then, our table was ready, and we could move over there. Helpful little five-year-old me carried the basket of chips… and my dad’s margarita.

Cue a chorus of adults trying to stop the child from carrying the alcohol. 

And that’s how I learned that was illegal.

My neighbors have three boys, all under the age of seven. In my first encounter with the mom, she promptly told me (not asked) that her kids wander. I naively thought that meant there might be the odd rogue ball episode or something so didn’t protest at the time. Oh, boy, was I wrong.

Our yards are unfenced, and we share a driveway. My yard, back deck, front garden, and even the inside of my house were seen as an extension of their space. The boys would even have sword fight tournaments on my back deck, off my kitchen. Their parents would literally do nothing. I was put in a position many times to ask for more privacy as it was affecting my work and a general sense of well-being as I am a very private person. It took some pushing, but finally, things got a bit better. But they still “wandered” — however, to a level I was not willing to cause drama over.

This past early winter, I decided to put in security cameras. I live alone in a not-so-great area and I wanted some peace of mind. I also wanted to document encroachment in case it got bad again. In that time, the cameras have picked up a lot of encroachment from kids, but I did not raise the issue, because the relationship with parents is peaceful, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Fast forward to yesterday. My camera picks up a clip of the middle kid peering into my window with a pair of binoculars.

I send the clip to the parents, explaining that one of my cameras picked it up and that I am not comfortable with this behaviour. It is inappropriate and an invasion of my privacy. They send a note back saying he was only trying to see if I was home so he could say hello. Then, they insist on knowing more about my security cameras, what they can see, and if they pick up the kids playing in their yard. I explain that they don’t as they only pick up motion in my yard. But, if the kids are in my yard — which they are… a lot — they are recorded.

The parents are insisting I take the cameras down.

The lesson is: entitled parents raise entitled children. I am frightened to see what kind of adults these kids will turn into. Who knows if I will be here long enough to find out?

I would love a fence, but I live in an area where wood is twice the price, and tradespeople are taking bribes for bookings. It’s not really possible right now, but someday. The neighbors are not only entitled but also deadbeats, so I’d be paying for it on my own. I did the one thing I had control of and that’s installing cameras.

Related:
Some Parents Are Way Too Comfortable Leaving Their Kids With Strangers, Part 2
Some Parents Are Way Too Comfortable Leaving Their Kids With Strangers