I love children. I hope to have some one day. I don't however like children who can't behave. No, I don't believe in the 'Kids wil be kids' saying. Raised with discipline and knowing who's boss (read: Parents) children can behave themselves in most child appropriate settings. There will of course be the odd hiccup.
But to you Customer I had yesterday who brought her heathen little boy into my store, it's more than clear who runs that show and it's not you. Everytime we see you coming into the store we want to dive for cover. Your child is a monster. I don't even think he is six years old yet and he in such a jerk. He comes in, harasses other customers, destroys our tables of folded tshirts, breaks the clothing racks, and pushes over the 40 pound mannequins.
Yesterday I decided to do something rather than watch the little beast destroy my store. When he pushed off all the tshirts off the first tier of the table, climbed on it and was hitching his leg up to get to the second tier, which is about four feet off the ground. I went over, picked him up off of it and told him do not climb the tables it is dangerous, and I told him to go back over by you. Other customers saw me do it, and actually applauded. You came over to me with this snarky look on your face and asked me "Are you his mother?" I calmly told you that letting him run around the store like that will get him injured. And you told me to fuck off and that you were his mother and not to speak to or touch him again; and you kept right of shopping. You know what? You're not much of a mother.
20 minutes later, the boy is in our window displays with the 40lbs mannequins, banging on the window, ripping down the banners in there. I go over to you and advise you to take him out of the window before he gets hurt. You turn your back on me like you don't hear me. No sooner did the words leave my mouth than we heard your son screaming bloody murder. When we run over to the windows and there's your kid pinned under the mannequin he knocked over with a busted up nose and lip. You start screaming for the police, because it's our fault he got hurt. Nevermind an ambulance or some medical aid, you want the police first because you're determined to try and get us in shit for not watching your animal and making sure he was safe (I'm a Asst. Manager, not a babysitter).
The joke was on you because the police hardly spoke to us. When they showed up, no less than 10 customers went up to them telling the officers what a bitch you were in the store and you made no attempts to control your boy or keep him safe. And luckily there are cameras in the store, so the nice officers can see every said about you was true.
We've decided that if you plan to come shopping in our store again with your boy you must keep him in the shopping cart or we'll ask you to leave. Not that I think you'll have the guts to show yourself for some time.
|Loves well behaved children.|