Dear Snarky – What If I Hate My Kid’s Teacher?

b13b7a5ce82559faea26a164a45fa70dDear Snarky,

I am freaking out because I’m afraid my daughter will get a bad teacher. Last year, for 4th grade she got the teacher no one ever wants. It was a long year. I thought about asking the principal, multiple times, to get her out of the class but I didn’t want to be THAT mom. Now, I don’t know if my daughter or me can take another year of having the teacher that is horrible.

 Signed, Upset Mom

Dear Upset,

The good news is the odds are in your favor that your daughter will probably get a teacher she loves. Yes, every so often, you will get a teacher that isn’t a good fit for your child but that doesn’t happen every year and if it does you may need to look in the mirror and not at the school.

 That said, if you do get a teacher that you fear, using fact not emotion, (some emotion is fine – your mom gut should never be discounted) is going to be a train wreck then by all means swiftly swoop in and get your child into another class.

In my long-term parenting career only one time did I request to have one of my children change teachers. I also didn’t want to be THAT mom so I waited to see if things would get better – they didn’t. Finally, after the winter holiday break my son changed classes and it was a wondrous and beautiful thing. I kicked myself for not doing it sooner.

So, bottom line, if you are 100% (okay, make that 95%) sure your child’s teacher is quite possibly the worst educational match in the history of the ABC’s (gentle snarky reminder – you do not swap teachers so your kid can be with his or her best friend) then request a change early in the school year and know that there’s only so many of the these changes you can make (you are not Goldilocks trying to find the teacher that is “just right”). This means do your homework to assure yourself and your child that the change is needed. 

If you have a question for Dear Snarky email me at



Life Skills for the “Almost Adult”

0715567c58d22f82f78795703a4cc413I have a son who has recently graduated high school and while I’m proud of his academic knowledge (aka book learning) I feel he, along with his peers, are woefully undereducated in the real life arena. This has prompted me to compile a list of skills I need to make sure my son knows before he heads off to college. Not wanting to hoard my treasure trove of wisdom I’ve decided to gift you with my To Do’s.

How to change a toilet paper roll – Forget about the score you made on the SAT’s. If you want to really impress me change the toilet paper roll. It requires a minimum of fine motor skills and is really quite self-explanatory. The brown cardboard toilet paper shell is not an eye-catching, long-term, decorative accessory for the bathroom. It’s the universal sign that it’s time for a new roll of TP. I think every student before being handed their diploma must first demonstrate that they know how to complete this, apparently, arduous task.

How to have a conversation – Put down your phone, I know it’s going to be a struggle and you might experience the shakes and some symptoms of withdrawal but power through and do it. After your phone is no longer your main focus, look another human being in the eyes (c’mon don’t give up, you can do it) maintain eye contact while asking your fellow carbon life form a question (because usually a query is an excellent ice breaker) and proceed to have a give and take of at least six complete sentences.

How to pick the quickest line at the grocery store – You will use this skill almost every day for the rest of your life. First, any line with a male cashier is a big no. Sorry, guys but you’re slower than your female counterparts at the whole scan and go.  Second, avoid any cashier that seems chatty. Making conversation slows down the scanning and bagging considerably. Third, don’t judge a line by the number of groceries in the cart. Judge the line by the grocery. A bunch of produce that needs to be weighed is a time suck. This statement might lead you to believe that getting behind the canned good shopper is a good thing. No, canned good shoppers are usually buying bulk and will be locked and loaded with coupons. Coupons are the black hole of checkout lines. Not only do they have to be scanned but also you can count on at least one being denied which will lead to at least a five-minute confab with the store manager.

Grooming in public – No tweezing and for the love of hygiene no nail clipping outside the four walls of your bathroom. Also, NEVER go free range with a foot nail file. Sadly, I’ve seen many cases of people (mostly women in their 30’s) committing this egregious act at public pools and even last summer at a July 4th Fireworks celebration. I kid you not, a woman on the blanket next to mine, got a Pedi egg thing out of her purse and began going to town on her heel calluses. I almost barfed as her foot funk was being jettisoned into the atmosphere.

How to properly answer the phone – It’s a little hard to believe but 18-year-olds still don’t know how to answer a phone, mainly because they don’t use their phone for audible conversations. So to review, you answer a phone with a  “hello.” For style points you might want to add a friendly lilt on the O. It is most definitely not huh, what, yeah, or uh huh.

How to order off a Panera or Corner Bakery menu – This advice applies to any restaurant where you stand in line to place your order. Now, usually these lines are long enough to give you time to peruse the menu and make a decision. Do not get to the front of line and then suddenly get stumped by what you want. There is no place in the adult world for menu performance anxiety. Also, asking if there’s fair trade cream in the baked potato soup is a sign that you’re at the wrong restaurant. Remember, it’s all about keeping the line moving.

I could go on but life skills are best taught in bite size chunks. You don’t want to overwhelm or even scare your emerging adult with information overload. For now, I’ll be grateful, if mastery is achieved on replacing the toilet paper roll.

**For more Snarky check out my book  Snarky in the Suburbs Back to School. 

Here’s a little ditty about it: The Spring Creek Elementary School PTA board (a coven of Mean Moms dressed in Uggs, yoga pants, and dermal filler) is up to no good. Wynn Butler (middle-aged, uncool, and not bringing sexy back) is determined to find out what’s going on. With help from her two kids, a Roomba vacuum turned mobile surveillance drone, and a few good friends, Wynn launches a covert investigation that leads to the “mother of all revenge capers” at the school’s annual Fall Festival. If you’ve ever fantasized about smoke bombing the idiot parent who has yet to master the fine art of the school drop-off lane, or standing up and shouting, “Liar, liar, Botox on fire” during a PTA meeting, then this delicious tale of payback is for you.

To stay up-to-date on new posts and take part in my not so deep thoughts click on this Facebook link – (That’s the abbreviated link to my FB page) or I twitter @snarkynsuburbs.


Dear Snarky – Help Braggy Moms Are Making Me Question My Parenting!


Dear Snarky,

I’m the proud mother of a beautiful 4 month old son. I know I have a lot to be thankful for. My son is healthy and the love of my life. My problem is not my baby, but other mothers. I was in a Mommy and Me play group which is really just an excuse to get out of the house but I quit going because all the moms are so competitive especially about their babies sleeping through the night. My son has NEVER slept through the night and the moms made me feel like something is wrong with him. Do you have any advice how to handle these braggy moms and their comments?

Signed Sleepless

Dear Sleepless, 

Put on your big girl Spanx and get tough. You’ve got a long road ahead of you sister. The first year of your child’s life is all about the milestones.

After the sleeping through the night marathon there’s the rolling over, sitting and pulling up Olympics.  That is quickly followed by the triathlon of walking, talking and potty training.  Those little mommy/baby play dates are really an excuse for a Baby Throw Down.  Babies, start you engines.  It’s time for Who’s the Better Baaaaaby – which loosely translates to Who’s the Better Mommy.  I never won – not once.  I didn’t even medal.  Although, one time I thought, for sure, I would get a bronze.

 Fast forward to elementary school and the stakes get even higher. Who’s reading before kindergarten, who’s already doing addition and subtraction.  Then, there’s always the mom that thinks her little piece of heaven is too advanced for kindergarten and needs to leap-frog directly to first grade or perhaps second grade. (Sigh) See what you have to look forward to and all this is nothing compared to high school. Two letters for you A P – as in “My child is taking 13 AP classes.” This all means you need to – right now – start practicing having confidence in yourself and your ability to be a fabulous mother. You also need repeat every day until your son leaves for college, “I will not judge my child’s success or mine based on the whopping fibs and exaggerations of other parents.” 

*If you have a question for Dear Snarky – 21st Century Advice With an Attitude please email me at or PM me on my Snarky Facebook page. 😉


Liars – All of Them!

1176265_10151814829998130_806107146_nLeave it to the first day of school to bring out the filthy liars in the motherhood community. I guess the scent of newly sharpened number two pencils, the aroma of brand new nylon Jansport backpacks and the essence of Johnson & Johnson Strawberry Sensation Detangling spray somehow manifests itself into a chemical cloud that permeates the nasal passages of all moms with school age children. The potent chemical combo must then travel to the brain cortex and trigger a nervous system response that manifests itself in grown, should know better females, telling great big whooping fibs for a 12 hour period.

We all know what the biggest back-to-school is fib is don’t we? It’s the mother of all fibs. It’s when we share to anyone who will listen, but most especially other moms that our guts are being ripped out, our souls are being shattered, we’re grieving, we are in the deepest, darkest pit of despair because school is starting and we’re bereft imagining a world in which we can not spend every waking hour with the magnificent beings that shoved their way of out of our loins.

Yeah, I get it. The first day of school is emotional. Every year is a milestone. Your kids are getting older. You’re getting older. You’re anxious and maybe a little worried because you want your children to have the most wonderful first day. I’m right there with you. What irritates me is the mompocrisy of women who use this day to over-share that they are “just dying inside” because they’ll miss their kids so much. It’s like a contest and the winner to Best Mom goes to whoever is wailing the most about school starting.

I admit I’m on the other side of that statement. Way on the other side. When my alarm goes off on the first day of school I spring out of bed and do, at the very least, a 60 second happy dance that is so exuberant it scares the dogs and causes the dining room chandelier to swing violently to and fro. I then skip to each child’s room and wake them up with this little song (loosely sung to the tune of Camp Town Races)

“Get up, Get up, Right Away cause Mommy’s happy school starts today.  

 Hurry, hurry and get dressed Lord knows I crave an empty nest.

 Don’t worry about me, be sure to sign up for loads of free extra curricular activities.”

After I see them off to their respective schools. I get back in my mercifully empty car, bow my head in silence and thank the gods of parenting that I made it through another summer with my sanity, somewhat, in tact. I then do a deep cleansing breath, roll down all my windows, crank up the NPR, scream “yahoo” while doing multiple air high fives, and toast the new school year by sacrificing a virgin Diet Coke.

Sadly, I have found over the years that I have to hide my joy or at the very least downplay it. It seems it is bad form to celebrate your liberation from your children. To do so makes one seem (gasp!) less than mother-of -the-year material. I started out this first day of school by being very well-behaved. Inside the privacy of my own home I didn’t conceal my back-to-school bliss. I figured my kids were used to it but I was respectful of their need for some summer closure.

I gave my son a moment alone with two besties – iPad and X-Box. He had a tearful farewell. I told him not to worry about leaving his “friends” unattended for 7 plus hours each day. I promised to go in and dust them every morning and to throw his video game controllers on the floor at least twice around lunchtime so they would still feel right at home. My daughter got choked up when she blew a kiss to the TV remote and thanked it for an amazing summer. I promised her I would light a candle in honor of the Disney Channel. With that done I loaded up and did the drop off and bye-bye.

So far, so good, until I attended a “Mom Coffee” comprised of moms from a wide swath of the neighborhood. Some I knew, others I had never seen before. Unfortunately the mom meet and greet sat me off from the get go. I tried, I swear I did. I smiled, I nodded, I made my “you are so right” parent face, but after 20 minutes I snapped.

I couldn’t take another mother blabbing and using a kleenex as her must have back-to-school accessory to emphasis how sad she was summer was over and her “little munchkins” wouldn’t be with her. Because here’s the deal – the mom doing the most award-winning interruption of “I love my kids more than you because I miss them already” was a total fake.  Her two kids when not enjoying back-to-back sessions of two-week sleep away summer camp or at their grandparents for an extended stay were at my house driving me crazy and I don’t even have children their age. Trust me, I think I saw her kids more than she did.

This is when I trumped the weepy moms fibs with a bigger, better one of my own. I told this group that it was really too bad they were so upset that school had begun because I had seen a recent study, somewhere, that had shown that moms who are the most sad about school starting are the ones that didn’t spend enough quality time in meaningful engagement with their children over the summer and thus their guilt manifests itself into a debilitating, chronic back-to-school remorse.


Cue the crap storm. Moms got enraged! Kleenex were flung to the floor and women began to defend their summer schedules and suggest “how dare I question their parenting.”

“Goodness,” I said, (in my best Barney Fife married Miss Goodie Two Shoes voice), “calm down I didn’t write the study, I just saw it and to be perfectly honest I loved it. It validated my parenting philosophy because every year I’m thrilled when school starts.” (And now to toss some hand grenades into the crap storm I add this zinger.) “I’m glad to know it’s because according to scientific research I’m doing an incredible job as a parent.”

Oh-My-God I committed the cardinal Mom Sin I proclaimed that I was better than all these ticked off moms. Even worse, I credited science for the shout out. (So it was made up science, big deal and who’s to say someone out there isn’t really doing a study like that?) Every mom knows that you can’t just announce that you’re kicking butt in the Olympic sport of momdom.

You and a group of friends can boast amongst yourselves how superior you are to other moms but under no circumstances can you proclaim to the world-at-large that you’re a better mom than the mom or moms standing right in front in you. These weepy women, in no way, wanted someone like me to “out mom” them. In their world I wasn’t even a contender.  But, thanks to the Gift of Fib” I had yanked their chain, hard. Score! (Not that I thought I was a better mom. Maybe a mom whose head wasn’t up her ass, but better – well, who really knows?)

As I was enjoying their somewhat suppressed fury the “discussion” took a turn for the worse when one mom wanted to know where I saw the study. “I don’t remember,” I said thoughtfully. “It was some on-line science journal my husband reads.”

Good save, I’m thinking. People will believe my husband reads heavy-duty science stuff, but no one could see me devoting hours to bettering my brain with esoteric journals. To make it sound even more credible I added, “I’ll text him and try to find the link for you.”

One Rhodes scholar piped up, “Are you sure it wasn’t junk science?”

“No,” I quickly replied. “ It was an International Pediatric Educational thing.”

I knew it was time to make my get away before someone took me up on texting my husband for additional information. I thanked my hostess, grabbed another muffin (well really one-third of a muffin since they were of the mini variety) and then went back to the cluster of moms still debating the “study” and said goodbye. I told them I had to run.  I was so busy putting the finishing touches on my family’s “Our summer was so awesome were excited about school party.” 

“Yeah, it’s going to be an amazing evening,” I said.

“Where did you get the idea?” one mom asked like I was incapable of thinking up one of my own.

“Oh,” I get “The Gifted and Talented Mom magazine, don’t you? It’s part of the national G.T. curriculum. You should really check it out.”

(Note: I don’t have a child in G.T.) And with that I sashayed right out the door, really working it, like I thought I was something. In truth my family would be celebrating the first day of school with pizza and cupcakes and complaining, lots of complaining about the teachers that dared to give homework their first day back but really was that any of their business? I think not.

*****For all things wonderfully Snarky go to where you can find the new Spring/Summer  Snarky line of clothing and accessories. Plus, there’s my book – Snarky in the Suburbs Back to School. (Click here for purchase information.) Here’s a little ditty about it: The Spring Creek Elementary School PTA board (a coven of Mean Moms dressed in Uggs, yoga pants, and dermal filler) is up to no good.  Wynn Butler (middle-aged, uncool, and not bringing sexy back) is determined to find out what’s going on. With help from her two kids, a Roomba vacuum turned mobile surveillance drone, and a few good friends, Wynn launches a covert investigation that leads to the “mother of all revenge capers” at the school’s annual Fall Festival.  If you’ve ever fantasized about smoke bombing the idiot parent who has yet to master the fine art of the school drop-off lane, or standing up and shouting, “Liar, liar, Botox on fire” during a PTA meeting, then this delicious tale of payback is for you. To stay up-to-date on new posts and take part in my not so deep thoughts click on this Facebook link – (That’s the abbreviated link to my FB page) or I twitter @snarkynsuburbs.

Where Evil Lurks – The Comment Section of Parenting Websites

One of the things that confuses me about being a parent (and trust me there are many) is that we expect our kids to behave better than we do.  For example, last week at the school P.T.A. meeting a group of moms were chatting the entire time.  If they want to visit why didn’t they go to a Starbucks or at the very least stand outside in the school parking lot and gossip up a storm? It’s not like they hadn’t seen each other in months. By the looks of their matching outfits it’s a pretty safe bet they were on their phones early this morning planning what they were going wear.

Now, here they sit and proceed to have their own little meet and greet. At best they were distracting, at worst it was flagrantly rude. Now imagine the same exact scenario, but insert a group of 10-year-olds for the “I’m too important to shut up moms.” The 10-year-olds for even thinking about talking non-stop during a meeting would have been quickly reprimanded and given a lecture that was rich with punishment potential. But, those Brite Smile moms, nothing happened to them.

Sure, many shhh’s were thrown their way, along with a legion of evil eyes and the P.T.A. treasurer even did a, “Ladies, I really need everyone’s attention,” but no one directly told them to be quiet. I was torn. I really wanted to tell them to shut the hell up, but another part of me wanted to see if  they would go for broke and talk the entire meeting  The answer to that is yes, they did.

Now that little scenario of moms behaving badly is nothing compared to the conduct of mothers on parenting websites. I, having moved frequently, use local parenting websites (usually affiliated with a newspaper) for innocuous questions like: Is the Waves of Fun Waterpark worth a season pass?  Other moms post more compelling questions about pregnancy, child rearing, etc.  Last month I was on one well-known national parenting site where a mother of twin toddlers posted that she was just enjoying her kids and not teaching them to read or doing flashcards – yet. That simple statement ignited a crapstorm.

The mother was called everything from being a “lazy loser” to “not fit to have children.”  One person posted that the mom “was what’s wrong with the educational system” and she was “tired of idiot moms who couldn’t get their kids ready for pre-school.” Another said, she was “selfish because thanks to her all the other kids in pre K will be short-changed while the teacher works with her twins to get them up to speed.”

Wow, I thought why all the emotion? It was just a two sentence post from a mom who was sharing her joy in spending time with her 2-year -olds. Get over it. It’s one person’s parenting style not a referendum on child care.

To investigate/pot stir further I decided to do a little more research on the mommy comment harshness factor.  (Note: I know my blog doesn’t runneth over with teeth hurting sweetness, but I think I pick on myself more than anyone else. Nor would I ever reply hurtfully to anyone’s comment. I may think someone’s an idiot, but I would never, ever type it to their face.)

Over the course of five days I posted on different sites three questions or statements that have little or nothing to do with my family and were chosen based on what stage of child rearing a parent would be experiencing.  1) I was having trouble breast-feeding and thinking of going to formula did anyone have any suggestions?  2) I was going to stop nagging my children about homework and letting them fail to so they could learn responsibility and accountability. 3) This winter my kids were taking a break from any sports activity that interfered with the family weekend.

Let’s just say I wished my blog got that many comments.  I was attacked by vitriol.  The breast-feeding comments made me the saddest. Here was a woman (okay me posing as a new mother) in need of moral support and a “you can do it pep talk.” What I got were a few kind comments and helpful suggestions and the rest were a little scary. The nicest mean thing I was called was a “quitter.” The rest were just post after post about what a sub standard human I am from “ a mother who “apparently doesn’t love her baby enough” to “I shouldn’t even have been allowed to have a child.” My education and I.Q. were even questioned based on me even thinking about switching to formula.  After I had a good cry about strangers hating me I moved on to the homework post.

My thinking was this one would address mothers with kids in school and perhaps the responses would be a little saner. I chalked up some of the breast-feeding mom hate posts to sleep deprivation. Well, that hypothesis proved to be invalid. I got just as much crap thrown at me. I was a bad, bad, mommy.  A slacker mom and my favorite a mom who said  “you must be too stuped to help your kids with homework.” That’s right they spelled stupid wrong.

Not one person agreed with me or shared that they too had tried a similar tactic. One person said they used to be a teacher and “mothers like me are why they got out of teaching.”  Well, that surprised me.  I thought teachers would be all over parents insisting their kids take on some responsibility and initiative.

My zero weekend sports activity post brought out the competitive parents in droves. Many of the comments were that I was single-handedly responsible for childhood obesity. One person asked if I were “too fat to climb the bleachers and if that’s why I didn’t want my children to participate in sports?” Ouch!  Many shared the same thought that I didn’t want to remove my rump from the couch to care for my kids. No one even caught on to the “family weekend” concept.  No busy sports weekend translated into loser family.

After having the “strangers rip me a new one” experiment ended I moved on to the conclusion phase. What had I learned?

I learned that some, not all, but some as in many, parents on the mom message boards are mean boarding on evil, opinionated, self-righteous, know it all, jerks whose hobby is trolling cyberspace looking for landing pads where they can spread their bad tempers.

Why, I ask you, do people feel the need to be such asses on-line?  Yes, it is a faceless, nameless forum, but really who carries around that much venom?  And yes, I do expect more nice, more love and more positive from females in general and mothers in particular about fundamental parenting issues. Much has been made recently on the need for us as a nation to practice civil discourse.  Well, let me tell you something if civil discourse starts in the home America is in big trouble.


Five Things Every Parent Should Teach Their Kids Right Now!

No Hands Under 18 Can Touch Any Free Food Sample (This falls under Article 2 of the “Double Dipping Statute.”)

Thank you Costco, Whole Foods and assorted grocery purveyors for your abundant free food samples.  Thank you children everywhere for making them E. Coli breeding stations.  To illustrate my point I will do a play-by-play of your typical five-year old reaching for a food freebie from a Whole Foods cheese tray.

Announcer:  He’s in position, that shopping cart puts him in line for a direct hit with the cheese.  He’s reaching for the cheese.  He seems to be going for the classic Cypress Grove Chevre. Uh oh, he’s sneezing.  That’s going to slow him down.  Eww, that snot went everywhere. I think I see some glistening off the Shelburne cheddar chunks.   He’s getting back into position. Time out, time out, he needs to wipe his nose with his hands.  We’re back in the game he’s reaching for the cheese again.  He’s almost got it. But, he seems distracted.  What he’s doing?  Oh, it looks like it’s a crotch itch.   He’s called an audible.  He’s going inside his pants to scratch that itch.   Okay, hand coming out of pants.  He’s finally reaching for the cheese.  It’s a full arm extension this time. He’s made contact.  He’s got one near his lips.  He licks it.  He puts it back.  He picks up another one.  Licks it.  Puts it back.  He’s going in again.  This time he grabs a kid friendly Sonoma Jack cheese.   Touch down!  We have full mouth-cheese contact.   That parents is why you must (and I suggest using the stranger danger techniques) teach your non-voting age children to stay away from the free food sample tray.

Note: I would also like to take this opportunity to point out that some adults are also guilty of excessive free food sample fondling.  It’s like they’re trying to get to second base with a ménage à trois of cheese, pita chips and blueberry crumble.

Movie Theatre is French for No Talking

I can see where a child might think that watching a movie in a theatre would be similar to watching a movie at home.  Both your house and the theatre have rooms with large screens, comfy chairs with drink holders and stains on the floor.  There is one exception – there are strangers sitting in the movie theatre and I’m hoping there aren’t strangers lounging on your coach at home.   These strangers have paid money to see the movie not to hear your children yap, chatter and have a running monologue about what’s happening on the screen, the current status of their bodily functions or when they can get more popcorn.  I’m fine with a little whisper activity from time to time.  But, talking throughout the entire movie makes me what to break a commandment or two.

I get it – kids talk.  My kids talk endlessly.  What I don’t get is parent’s that have lost the ability to tell their kids to shut up, hush, quiet down or my personal favorite – taking the yappy kid and removing them from the theatre until they get the message to zip it.   Well, my personal favorite really is pinching your child hard so they get the message to lock the lips.  If you’re the wimpy parent in the theater that doesn’t have the backbone to tell your kids to quit talking – watch out because a stranger just might do it for you (and by stranger I mean me) or better yet, just don’t take your kids to the movie.

The Retail Check Out Line “Thingamabob” Is Not a Nintendo D.S. Apparently, the newest toy on the market is the electronic check out.   Cue my eye rolling and sighing as I wait in line, as yet another parent let’s their child enter in their debit/atm code at the electronic check out station.  Invariably, the child gets the code wrong, doesn’t press down hard enough etc.  That translates into me waiting while you let your kid try to enter in your code – again and again.  Enough – not only is you child broadcasting your PIN, that just for spite I’m writing down, but you are seriously holding up the line and taking away minutes of my life I’m never going to get back.  I don’t get why parents are doing this.  The electronic thingamabob is not that fun and trust me on this one your kids don’t need any help in learning how to spend your money.  They were born with the skill. It’s intuitive.

Peeing On a Public Restroom Toilet Seat Is Not Acceptable

What makes some children view a public restroom as a “no rules” or barn animal zone?  What, I’m hoping, kids don’t do in their own home seems to be acceptable in a public restroom.  Inaccurate aiming while using the potty, no flushing, toilet clogging and the paper towel palooza.   All under the watchful eye of the parent.  Hey, parents just because you don’t have to clean it up doesn’t mean it’s okay.  How many of us have had to do the stall square dance and do-si-do while trying to find a toilet that isn’t yucky?

Headphones Must Be Used for All Electronic Devices

I “appreciate” Barney, The Jonas Brothers and Dora the Explorer.  But, do I want to hear their theme songs, playlist or T.V. show on the train, in the plane, or on a bus.  That’s a big no.  If you’re family is doing mass transit educate your child to stick on some sort of headphone/ear bud apparatus because sometimes caring is not sharing.

A big shout out to the Southwest flight attendant who went all “Super Nanny” on a mom and her three  kids in aisle C on a flight from Phoenix to Austin.  The kids were  watching a DVD on a lap top (which apparently had turbo speakers) and the movie could be heard all the way back to aisles M,N,O and P.  The flight attendant told the mom (who was sitting behind her darlings) that the kids either needed to use headphones or not watch the movie.  The mom put down her Vogue magazine and volleyed two vodka tonic’s worth of parental indignation towards the flight attendant.  The attendant served it right back (hello, Air Marshall) and the laptop was silenced.  Game, set, match to the flight attendant and Southwest.

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