I create context. I also write blog posts:

Today, I looked into the eyes of the devil…

Posted: June 5th, 2010 | Author: | Tags: , | 2 Comments »

And he tried to bite me.

That’s because, on this occasion, he was a four year old terrorizing the shop that I work in (no need to name names — it’s a nice one in the Hamptons). Woman walks in with her unbeknownst-to-us monster child. He’s grabbing at everything before he gets both feet in the door, and we’re trying to deal with his absent-minded mother (frankly, I think it’s “selective absent-mindedism”). Then he starts rolling some of the glasses we sell on the floor. “These are dirty! I hate this store!,” the little terror-monger told me.


Well, don’t you like this one? It has a starfish on it. Have you ever seen a real starfish?


I want to fight.

(At this point, I should promise you: I didn’t make any of this up.)

Suddenly, he began flailing around, dangerously close to pieces of china that cost more than I make in a week. I had no choice but to step in and try to catch his little flying fists. All the while mum can’t make up her mind about… well, I don’t know what. I was too busy babysitting the kid from “Problem Child” to know, but she was taking too long nonetheless.

He was a weak little miscreant though, and every time he charged, I covered my balls and held out my hand like a cow catcher on a steam engine. Invariably, he would fall over — hopefully scuffing his Ralph Lauren Polo (literally, it was a “polo uniform”) shirt — and then try again. He had the worst balance of any little kid I’ve ever met.

I had ushered him away from the china — and other customers — like a matador guides a bull when he threatened to bite me. Then he tried to bite me.


Hun, it doesn’t sound good over there!


It’s ok, mom, I’m just fighting.


Okay! Dum-de-dum, I’m a moron!

Somehow, he managed to grab two pencils — I know, this is sounding like a prison fight — and came at me, holding them like a pair of sai (what do you want from me, I liked the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was a kid…). Again, make up for the lack of a cup and try to deflect the blow. I was getting fed up, and I started thinking about asking for hazard pay.

World’s Worst Mommy finally came over after completing her purchase — wisely taking a store poll whether or not she should hang out and find a Father’s Day present; it came back “nay” — and laid down the law:


Behave yourself or we’re not going to get ice cream!

His response? One more shot at my nads, which, thankfully, I deflected, all while wishing them both a good afternoon and trying to shake off any homicidal thoughts I had at that point.

“That kid’s going to hell,” I was whispering to my boss before the door was even closed shut. I was wrong. That kid had been to hell and he’d already conquered. It was Lucifer himself in my store today.

So I give up. I’m now in favor of leashes for children… and horse tranquilizers, too.

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