I spoke of the 'pig parker' recently as described by Larry David. Well today was sunny for once and I decided to take buddy on his scooter down to our local park. Its not far just along the main road, across another main road and we're there.
I was surprised at the number of dads in the park - we were out numbered three to two. Anyhow a young boy (approx 3 years old) in what looked like a brand new top had managed to find the only muddy puddle at the entrance to the park. The mother was sitting with her mother and was probably mid to late twenties. So the boy is jumping in this puddle and he's got mud splashed all up his lovely new top. The mother has made a couple of feeble "no don't do that" sits back down whilst he merrily ignores her. I have a friend who's boy is a puddle magnet so I don't think too much about it. Boys will be boys and all that.
So buddy is merrily climbing up steps, walking the plank and finishing off the routine with a slide. Repeat numerous times. The boy has now decided to put his hands in the puddle. The mum sighs and continues to remain seated chatting. The boy starts chasing his new found friends - 2 boys of similar age wearing what suspiciously look like brand new tops judging by how WHITE they are! So now we have the 2 boys running laughing with the muddy puddle hands boy in hot pursuit thinking this game is hilarious. And bringing up the rear is the panic stricken dad who is one stride away from his kids getting splattered with dirty mud prints.
Had Buddy been the boy being chased I would have asked the lady if she would like to follow the boys around to prevent any paw prints. Or alternatively wipe his hands or even stop him from doing it over and over again in the first place.
Now he's not going to say "hey lady wipe this germ ridden crap off your kids hands will you so I can go back to having a little relax on the bench" is he? I am not on a state of high alert as buddy is still completing his routine for the 14th time. However, this is short lived, as now the little fella has climbed on board covering the whole thing in mud making it a tad difficult to negotiate without buddy getting covered in mud. Its time to go home.
On exit, I'm thinking what a 'Pig Parent'. Not only do I have to contend with dog shit on route to the park and survey the area within the park, broken glass and discarded plastic bottles - I now have to contend with the 'Pig Parent' who can't be arsed to sort her boy out and put an end to this charade. The Pig Parent has no regard whatsoever for you, your child or anything that may occur as a result of their lazy arsed attitude.
My husband, after relaying this little trip out, said "are you really going to have a little title for things like this?" That would be a yes.
But please people don't blame the child blame the Pig Parent!