The fluorescent lights were bad enough, let alone a waiting room full of people. Across from me, a little boy squirmed in his chair. His too-young mother hovered over him, droning on about the need for the kid to “sit up,” His tattooed-up father, who was sitting up, stewed in silence. I’m not sure if the K-Fed wannabe was more embarrassed by his son or his son’s mother, but he suddenly got up and walked out the door.
The kid was unphased, he kept squirming. So his mom loudly announced “Oh-oh! See what happened? Daddy left because you were being a Bad Boy.” This made the kiddo stop squirming and look up only to notice that, yes indeed-y, his father had left. But he still didn’t sit up.
So Mom started chattering “Tell Mommy you love her. Tell Mommy you love her…”
“Love her,” was all the kid could repeat. It was at this point I closed and covered my eyes with my hand. He’s not a fucking parrot, Lady.
Within a minute, I heard Daddy-O walk back in. And within another minute, they were called into an examining room. Within seconds, the kid was screaming. And through it all, that woman never shut up.
One day Daddy IS gonna leave alright. And again she’ll blame it on her son…
