My kid had a birthday party to attend Friday night and another for Saturday night. I was supposed to pick up at 8 on Friday, but got a call at 7:30 asking if he could spend
the night—two other friends were staying over as well. I said okay and dropped off an overnight bag. At 9 the next morning I got a call saying that the parents of the child wanted to take the boys swimming. Okay, I packed up my kid’s swim trunks, beach towel, sunscreen, etc. and dropped off. At 5:30 that day---uh huh that long—my kid arrived home looking like a freaking lobster. He could be the spokesman for the Red Lobster chain. No costume needed. Shoulders blistered, body completely red. Every step he took was painful.
The parents of his friend sped out of my driveway. Yeah. Good decision. It seems that the boys were left at the lake without parental supervision! Can you hear me screaming? I pray you didn’t hear all of the swear words I used when I found out. We’re talking about fourteen-year-old boys who can barely remember to brush their teeth let alone use sunscreen and NO parent around to remind them to do it.
So what kind of parents are we talking about here? Where is their brain power? I remember a few years back and another birthday party, this one involving one of my girls. She’d been invited to an overnight on a horse farm. Sounded pretty cool. They were all going horseback riding. They were in sixth grade. Then I found out that the overnight was going to be in the barn and a sixteen-year-old girl and her boyfriend were going to chaperone these girls and BOYS! Yep, it was a boy-girl sleepover. Now maybe I was thinking back to when I was sixteen, but no way in hell do you let a sixteen-year-old and her boyfriend sleepover together and be chaperones for a boy-girl sleepover. Boy-girl sleepover? WTF? My kid DID NOT go. And she hated me for it, too.
The last party I had at my house was a birthday party for my oldest. A total of forty-two kids. Boys and girls. The girls were staying overnight and the boys had to leave at 11. It was a pool party. The kids started arriving the MORNING of the party—yes, at 9 that morning I already had six kids in the pool plus my own. I had sleeping bags, cots, blow up mattresses, all set up in the house and an RV that could sleep another ten or so out in my backyard by the pool. It was a great party. The kids had a blast. But I stayed up just as long as they did and they didn’t settle down until 5 a.m. At 3 I looked out my window to see five girls on top of the RV—about 12 feet in the air—shaking their bootys and flashing everyone their boobs! The boys were indeed gone, thankfully. But that is when I made the decision—NEVER AGAIN. Too much responsibility.
I’m one of those people who takes responsibility seriously. If you leave your child with me, you better believe I will take care of him/her. And that bunch that night proved to me I was just getting too damn old for the job. Has anyone besides me had experience with parents who basically did a lousy job of taking care of your kid when they were clearly responsible for his/her well being?