Stroller-pushing Manhattan parents get a lot of grief (whether they're attuned to it or not). Sneery hipsters, grizzled curmudgeons, well-heeled collegians, bitter "singletons" and anorexic fashionistas alike all grouse about having to share the pavements with breeders who've dared sully their urban experience with their shrill, messy offspring. Eyes roll, lips curl, teeth clench and ugly words fly. It's alright -- we get it loud & clear. You don't like kids. GET OVER IT!
To many degrees, I can sympathize. For the most part, I certainly don't relish spending any time with other people's children, and even the most angelic & strikingly-well-behaved child has his or her moments of being an abject irritant. Right now, I'm on day two of a solo parent weekend (the wife went to her 20th college reunion), and the fragile parameters of my sanity have been more that rigorously tested in the last forty-eight hours. Believe me, no one knows more than I do how insanely annoying kids can be. I'd like to believe that my little two are usually reasonable, but I'm pretty obviously biased. But yes, I hear you --- kids can suck.
What I don't understand, then, is why so many people who don't have kids end up hanging out in playgrounds! I mean, for fuck's sake -- in the last three weeks alone, I've seen multiple examples wherein people who clearly had no business being in the playground were hanging out on the swings ---- swings very obviously intended for people decades their junior. I just do not get it. Why would any adult -- with the exception of a child-molester or someone with "special needs" -- even want to hang out in a playground??
Two weeks ago, that little walled-in playground on Carmine Street played host to a gaggle of preening NYU kids, idling on the swings and the slides, oblivious or entirely inconsiderate to the confused children and agitated parents around them. They stayed for hours, blithely ignoring the sign pictured at the top of this post. Yesterday morning, I took Charlotte & Oliver to the playground at St. Luke's Place. Things were fine until a quintet of gangly teenagers came in and started playing a strangely aggressive game of tag. When one almost trampled a nearby four-year-old (not mine, thankfully), I snapped and lipped off at one of them to calm down and show some consideration to the little folks. It didn't even begin to dawn on them that they were in the wrong place and behaving inappropriately. What's the damn problem??
Look, I'll make a deal with you. I promise to never bring my kids to a bar if you simply STAY THE FUCK OUT THE PLAYGROUNDS! Not only is it creepy and absurd, it's technically against the damn law.
Recent Comments