I hate your kids

I solemnly swear that if I should ever find myself knocked up, I will promptly move to the suburbs. I will not crowd New York sidewalks with a MacLaren stroller. I will not take my baby/ toddler/ small child to quiet coffee shops, nice restaurants or R-rated movies.

Today on one of my rare days off, I decided to get a cup of tea at the local cafe. I was quietly reading my book, everyone around me also working or reading, when two SAHMs entered. For those lucky enough not to know, SAHM stands for Stay-at-home-mom. Otherwise known as women whose husbands make enough money that they neither have to work in or out of the home. This gives them plenty of time to drag their children to tens maybe even hundreds of innapropriate locales all over Brooklyn. Like the local cafe. Which is not an inappropriate place, per se. When I walked in a young mother had been sitting near the entrance with her toddler, and I didn't hear a sound from either of them. About fifteen minutes after I sat down, walked in the SAHMs. They made sure to announce their arrival. Their MacLaren strollers blocked the narrow path to the door. And they babbled over their sleeping children as they unzipped them from the strollers. They had the unmistakble self-satisfaction of people who had managed to procreate in brownstone Brooklyn. They continued to talk twice as loud as anyone else there. But the real kicker happened on their way out, after both children had begun crying. They noticed a flier for the annual house tour of brownstones and mansions in the neighborhood. "Ohmigod, we should totally do that," SAHM 1 announced in a tone more appropriate for a football game than a coffee shop. "I've never tried taking the stroller up all those stairs," the dowdier SAHM replied, and I realized with horror that these two planned on shlepping their teething, drooling toddlers through meticulously restored 19th Century homes. I looked up and stared at them. "I guess that's more of a carrier day," Frump continued. To which the first SAHM replied, "Yeah I've wanted to do it every year! We should totally get Michelle and Alex and Stephanie and Mike to come, too!" Guess where I won't be that day.

And I guess, that the children themselves weren't so bad. Sure they fussed and cried, but if these people were my parents, I'd be crying too.