Where are your parents?

For the second day in a row, we had a tornado watch in our county. We couldn't play outside and I didn't want to spend my afternoon coordinating indoor play dates for my kids so we made a family trip to, where else? The mall.

Going to the mall with three young kids is overwhelming at best, unmanageable bedlam at worst. When I take my kids to the mall, I am on them like white on rice. I don't want them to get lost, I don't want them to break anything, I don't want them to annoy anyone, and I don't want strange mall people trying to engage them in conversation or offering them a balloon. Basically, if you ever come to the mall with my kids and me, don't expect a lot of reciprocal conversation from me.

Now, what I don't understand is the other kind of parent. The "where the hell are your parents" parent. You know who I'm talking about.

There is a Venetian Carousel in the food court and Andrew (7) and Lia (5) beg us to ride it.

"Only if you either get on a horse that goes up and down or if you ride the spinny wheel thing. No sitting in the chair that doesn't move, that is completely lame."

Andrew can be wussy and sometimes he needs to be pushed. What? The last time he rode a carousel he sat in the chair! What am I supposed to do? Sometimes he leaves me no choice. And anyway, I withdrew my entry for Mother of the Year on January 2nd.

Jamie brings them up to the carousel while I feed Mason (just turned 1! Happy Birthday Mason!) . He pays the $4 (RIP OFF!) for them to ride and comes back to the table. As they're waiting for the ride to start, 7 boys between the ages of 6 and 8 crush their way onto the carousel and all jump into the circle thing with the spin wheel (if you've ever been on the teacups ride, it's like that). Now, they can't all fit, but 6 of them manage to squeeze themselves into it while the weakest link settles for a nearby horse. A moment later, the carousel operator (who gets paid minimum wage) walks up to the 6-boy sausage cup and tells the boys that two of them have to get out - the cup can only hold 4.

The boys sit there and stare at her, and at each other. And they sit there. And they sit there.

"Two of you have to sit somewhere else," she repeats.

There are probably 10 other kids on the ride, including my two, and the operator is not going to turn it on until two of the boys move.

"Come on," I say to Jamie, "they have been waiting on that thing for 4 freaking minutes, one of those kids has to move so they can start the ride. They are just sitting there! Dude, they are totally ignoring her, this is so annoying, everyone is waiting, hey kids WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?"

And then I see her. The one woman responsible for these kids. Was she in the bathroom? Nope. At Cinnabon getting a cupcake? Nuh uh. Making out in a corner with Johnny Trailerpark? No sirree. She was standing right there, in front of the carousel, in front of the six boys, the entire time. Not saying a word. Letting everyone else wait while her kids and their friends completely ignored the operator.

Awesome, way to go Mom! On behalf of all the parents who brought their kids to the mall today, thank you, you totally rock.