Recently I had an awkward moment with a patron in a restaurant. You know that moment when your kid is having a meltdown and you look up and some asshole is shaking his head at you and mumbling to his partner about how awful your kid is? Awkward because I let him know right back with every bitchy facial expression I own that I saw him. You know the one that screams “F off!”?
When I took my crying child to the bathroom, he gave me yet another dirty look. When I returned with the child I
exchanged calmed, he continued to glare and make comments even though we all started eating quietly. At this point, I was ready to cry and explode all at the same time.
My partner wanted to get up and tell him off. As much as that would have been awesome, it wasn’t the right thing to do. We had to be the bigger people.
As he strolled through the parking lot, hand in hand with his significant other, I laughed. He’ll get his.
I know I did.
One day he’s probably going to be a father.
Children…the ultimate karma.
One day he’s going to be in our shoes. Sitting across the table from his wife watching her struggle to keep his toddler from exploding. Watching her struggle from imploding. Knowing whatever he does, he can’t fix the shit show going on across from him.
And he’s going to remember.
Remember back to a time when he was “that guy”. And he’s going to feel it.
In the pit of his stomach. And he’s going to know right then and there what kind of douche canoe he was.
And sitting staring at his wife, making snide comments, and shaking his head, is another.
What comes around goes around.
(Cue Justin Timberlake)
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