HOWLER BABIES

It was supposed to be a relaxing spell of retail therapy in the mid-day, nothing in particular to buy, just browsing.

But my attempt at me-time was obliterated thanks to nails-across-the-blackboard-wails I first thought were being made by a baby howler monkey. In seconds, however, I spotted the cause of the ear-splitting cacophany -- a woman, apparently hard of hearing, blithely walking around the clothing stacks pushing a carriage with the noisemaker in it.

From my vantage point I could see a part of the carriage, from which little feet clad in mint green socks were flailing skyward in full tempo to the yowling. So loud were those screams that a couple of people around me started to comment that maybe the child was hungry or wet and needed to be taken out of there posthaste.

Momma Howler Baby was oblivious.

She continued to push that carriage around the perimeter of the store, the better to spread the yelps that were emanating from her little bundle of joy. Meanwhile, I'm thinking to myself one more minute and I'm going over there to tell her to take the kid out of the store. It's not the first time I've done that.

Someone has to do it.

But finally, after what seemed endless minutes, she pushed the carriage out the front door, with the inhabitant still howling full tilt.

Ladies, do us all a favor. Don't have children if you don't intend to look after them properly, and by all means keep the child at home where it belongs at such an early stage of its life. While I recognize your need for you-time, it's unfair to enjoy it at the expense of me-time. 

Amen, and pass the ear plugs.