My daughter and I did one of those spur of the moment things that make the lazy days of summer so perfect.
It was a glorious, run of the mill, perfect orange sun set Denver evening that found us traipsing off to a Toys R Us store.
Who thinks about the terrors of lead paint and the over commercialization of our society when you have 30,000 square feet of plastic and overpriced splendor to gape at?
Sequined Barbies beckoned even my tom boy daughter, while every imaginable rendition of Disney’s latest culture pulverizing characters stared at us from their shelved thrones. We were in awe of the play kitchen that boasted more gadgets and do-dads than even my real-life one.
After a glorious hour of gawking, my daughter made her choices. All set, we proceed to the check-out.
A 30’ish something dad and his 3 toe-head kids bounced and bee-bopped in front of us. Each kid was making an individual purchase and paying with gift cards they’d accumulated for what seemed like every birthday, Christmas, Chanukah, and whatever other excuse we use to laden kids down with these magical plastic cards. Cute scene, right?
Hardly! See the thing is said father was chirping away on his cell phone to his wife relaying the kids’ purchases. Here he is trying to dislodge the gift cards from his busting at the seams manly man wallet.
“Wait, I think that’s Celeste’s card, but this is Forest’s stuff ” (not their real names, but you know they were all named something new agey). “No honey, I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to the cashier.”
Really buster, then why aren’t you even making eye contact with the sixteen year old cashier who is too shy and inexperienced to interrupt your call and who by the way has no idea which Geoffrey gift card belongs to which growing-crankier-by-the-minute kid? I want to scream at him, but miraculously don’t.
“Apple Broccoli darling, take the Hannah Montana toy out of your bag so I can tell Mommy exactly what it can do.”
“But Daddy, I’m tired, I don’t want to, I’ll just show her at home.”
Now we know where the brains in the family ended up.
“Please darling, Mommy is excited to know what you got.”
I’ll give her something to be excited about I think – like the injuries her husband is about to incur when I go all Uma Thurman on his you know what.
Apple Broccoli is not about to be swayed. “I think Apple Broccoli is coming down with something.”
Yeah she’s coming down with something alright – a case of the most arrogant father in the world. Again, I’m keeping these deep thoughts to myself.
“Daddy, can I please have fifty cents to use in the grabber machine” I’m guessing this was the infamous Forrest as he was the only boy in the bunch.
“Now, son, we’ve talked about how those things are a waste of money, but let me ask Mommy, what she thinks. “Honey, Forrest wants to try the grabber machine .I know that’s what I told him ..well I suppose ..”
Finally, I can’t take it anymore!
“Sir, if you don’t finish your transaction in the next two minutes I promise you I am going to pull an Incredible Hulk like you have never before seen and yes you should be very, very afraid,” the words seethed out of the corner of my mouth.
I suppose I could have nicely asked him to put his call on hold and attend to the immediate task at hand. Not a chance.
Anyone so completely self-centered deserves to be threatened. Of course, he acted all put out and like it was me, not him, who was the lunatic in the line.
Seriously people, hang up your damn phones when you are checking out at a store, the post office, the bank – wherever.
If you want little Apple Broccoli to grow up with some modicum of manners, model the polite and courteous way to conduct yourself in these situations.
That is to say, keep your cell phone out of sight and use, or you run the risk of having it shoved where the glorious Denver orange sun never sets.
EDITOR’S NOTE: This is an online-only column and has not been edited.
