I love them, I really do. They’re the cutest and most innocent, pure little angels.
Until they’re left unattended in a store.
All it takes is one minute…
Every toy on the floor lined up like Barbies are going to war with the transformers. All the little ponies knocked over on the shelf. Nerf darts and foam swords everywhere. Open candy packages and silly string all over the wall.
Or when they just have to touch things and suddenly all the product is pushed to the back of the shelf or rearranged into a different spot. Or anything hanging up is pulled to the floor because they can’t see it properly.
The only thing that makes this worse is when they are actually being supervised by their parent, and the parent just. doesn’t. care. At all. No fucks given. On the phone, watching but not seeing as their little tiny human wreaks havoc on my store.
But that’s ok, right? It’s my job to clean up the store after all. They just want to give me something to do. Since I definitely don’t have enough work otherwise.
And then there are the tantrums. I understand that kids are kids and they aren’t emotionally capable of handling certain situations and all that…but…
I have literally heard a kid crying and throwing a fit – not because he couldn’t get a toy – because he couldn’t decide on which toy to pick. His parents told him to pick anything. Anything. No price limit. I mean come on! Our toy section isn’t that big.
But they’re also funny. Like when a kid asks to show their mom what they want for Christmas. And this can happen at any time of the year. Middle of August, “Mom I want Santa to bring me this!” Or the toddlers that make an escape as soon as mom puts them on the floor to pay for her items. Like they’d been plotting the whole time what they would do if they had their feet on the ground.
And the shy kids that hide behind mom’s leg when you smile and tell them hi. And the little ones in the basket that smile at you around their pacifier. The ones that wave and say bye when they roll away. The ones that are willing to share their candy with you. And that five-year-old boy that flirts and shows off his muscles by holding a dog food bag over his head.
So maybe they’re not all bad. But some days I just want to charge the parent’s an entry fee when they bring in their little crazies.