Parent intervention

J'adore the Dollar Tree, especially because I'm a teacher. It's my go-to place for all things cheap. I am sad to say, though, that the last time I left the Dollar Tree, I was steaming mad. I've had some time too cool down, but as I continue to write, I might get riled up again.

As I was looking for calculators for my classroom, I spotted an obvious parental failure. She was blond and had on sweat pants with "Pink" written across the rear. Let me just say that if you go anywhere in public with anything stamped across your bottom, it's an automatic parental discredit. But I could have let that go, I really could have. It was the words that came out of this mother's mouth that made me want to intervene.

She has with her a little brunette girl with long hair. The kid couldn't have been over five years old, but I'm pretty certain she was probably four. She's touching everything in the store and saying "I like this, I want this, can I have this?" Her mother, the one who gave birth to her, sneers and says "Put that down, that's stupid. I'm not gonna buy that." Okay, could be worse. Here it comes...

I'm in the same aisle as this mother and child, and the kid says something to her mom. It really doesn't matter what she said, because she is four and her mother is an adult. Her mother says to her "You're such a bossy brat." This, good people, is why I struggle with the students in my class. This is why I have to listen to 37 accounts of name calling per day. It's because my students' own parents likely use this kind of language with them at home. I mean, get a clue, moms and dads. If you want your child to be nice at school, maybe you shouldn't call them names. That's who they learn it from. If you don't want me to call you in for a parent meeting because of something your child did, then start setting a better example at home.

It gets infinitely worse. I mean, after I heard the bossy brat comment, I was about to say something like "If you use more respectful language with your child, she will likely grow up to be respectful to others." But I kept my lips shut.

Then the mom tries to get her daughter to follow her to another aisle, but the kid doesn't want to go. I wouldn't want to go anywhere with this woman either. So the mother says, "Come on you little varmint." ! and ? For reals? You just called your child a varmint? And in public? Clearly, I am not impressed with your parenting skills. I don't care if she's not obeying you, you don't say things like that to a four-year-old. 

Again, I kept my mouth shut, but the steam started to come out of my ears. I finished getting what I needed and went to get in line. There they were again. Another chance to intervene. The child was trying to crawl up to the counter and reach a candy bar, and her mother kept telling her to stop. I really wanted to demonstrate good parenting skills. I wanted to show that terrible mother what you could say calmly, respectfully, and firmly to have the child stop. I didn't, but I am 99% sure the kid would have listened to me.

As I'm walking to my car, I'm thinking "this is why classroom behaviors are going to hell. Parents don't even demonstrate respect and kindness in their own homes."

I watch the mother force her child into the back and slam the door. I pull out behind her. I sort of think about writing down her license plate, but then I spot something even better: a phone number decal on the rear window. It's advertising some "Scentsy" business. I could call this woman, I think. I could call and tell her what she should be doing differently. But the problem is, it's kind of raining and I can't quite make out all of the numbers. And I don't want to become "that person," the complete stranger who gets all up in your business even though they don't even know you. I didn't want to do that.

But now I wish I had.