The various creepy-staring-laundromat-people were there, as usual. I guess they wait for me or something. Or maybe there's a continual supply of them. Or maybe I AM one... eep. I hope not. Anywho, the Sunday crowd was there as well. OUCH. The Sunday crowd is a group of small children screaming and running, and their parents-who-can't-be-bothered-to-pay-att
This scarred my soul. I didn't mind the screaming children so much... I mean, they bothered me a little, but they're children. They're SUPPOSED to make noise sometimes. It's not a bad thing. What bothered me was the fact that these little ones were trying to get their mothers' attention, and were getting ignored instead (those magazines must have been very engaging). So they tried harder, and harder, and harder, in the only (loud) way they knew, and received "bad" attention. Loud bad attention that made my ears burn.
I almost cried. On several occasions.
It's really not my place to tell people how to raise their children. I don't even have any, nor do I know I'd be any good at raising them if I did. But it bothers me that these children were being given the message that they weren't as important as a printed page of nonsense... that they were establishing a pattern of behaviour that might screw with their relationships for a very long time. It bothers me a lot.
I wanted to tell these children a story. Just make up something fanciful and share it. But I was afraid of being considered some sort of child molestor or something.
I am saddened by my behaviour, by my fear and lack of action. I should have at least tried the one positive course of action open to me. I'm saddened by the parents' behaviour, too, but I can't really do much about that (except not repeat it, if I should ever enter motherhood).
Maybe I'm just too sensitive sometimes.
I've been listening to "Lovely Day" (Bill Withers), and "Here Comes the Sun" (Richie Havens) over and over again, (at first, only in my head in the laundromat... now on MP3). This helps some. So does writing about the experience. The nice guy who helped me bring all my laundry to my car and didn't even try to pick me up also helped to re-establish my faith in the human race. Bless that guy, wherever he may be :)
Hope everyone is having a loverly Sunday. I know for a fact this is not the case in a number of specific situations... my heart goes out to each of you, it really does.
* Why, oh, WHY do I expect this completely vapid and useless bit of info to make LiveJournalDiss [sic] news?