Rules for Thee, Not for Me

Last night I accompanied my partner to his big work party. He’s in the military, so it’s a riotous affair - over a hundred people (most of them young and still in their partying era, alcoholic drinks a plenty, and swears flying. Best of all, it was clearly stated that children were not invited.

But of course that can’t stop one couple from bringing their little darling! And just my luck, they sit down next to me, stroller parked between them. They introduce themselves and their kid - who had a particular cringey tragedeigh of a name. I smile politely and ask how old their kid is, trying to get an idea of what particular type of chaos we’re in for. The mom says she’s 16 months (one year old would have sufficed, thanks) and then cheerfully exclaims that “the invite said no kids, but she doesn’t count because she’s a baby!”

What. The. Fuck. You know damn well what that meant, and all the other parents here were respectful enough to listen and smart enough to know this isn’t a place for kids anyways, but you’re either too fucking cheap or too high and mighty for a babysitter?

Fortunately they moved to a neighboring table while we were getting food, presumably seeking people to fawn over their special snowflake. Fine, out of sight out of mind. Until the awards ceremony rolls around. The announcer takes a moment to acknowledge the spouses, having them stand up and people clapping. Then someone (unclear if it was one of the parents or not) yells “what about the kids” and this bitch stands up and lifts her kid up into the air like it’s the fucking Lion King, and the crowd is absolutely roaring with applause. Seriously?! We’re going to reward the unasked for presence of a baaabey and this pathetically attention seeking behavior? Get real .