Don't know why I just remembered this, but let's have a story time!
It's a family wedding. Sean and I are there together. It's my chunk of the family. Before this story begins, please know that dad's phone went off mid-ceremony, and it was a rooster crow, and my baby brother quipped, "Must be the dowry," and it was very, very hard to keep quiet enough to not cause further interruptions in the ceremony.
We manage it, and then there's about half an hour between the ceremony and the reception. It's all in the same space, so the bride and groom exit to get a little down time while the rest of us just chit chat and what have you.
There's a dance floor in the space. Very soon after the ceremony, a toddler starts running in a circle on the dance floor and yelling at the top of its lungs.
This was when I was still living in an area where "When are you having children?" was considered a reasonable question to ask a stranger and "you'll change your mind" was considered a polite way to answer my response of "literally never."
So, I'm fucking annoyed from moment one because toddler screaming is like an electric shock to my brain and I have already been through a few people asking about kids and doing the, "Oh, but you'll change your mind" when I told them I'm not having kids.
Just deal with it, I think to myself. When the reception starts, the kid will get pulled off the dance floor, and it'll probably fall asleep in five minutes.
The reception started.
The kid was NOT removed from the dance floor.
The kid kept screaming and running DURING the first dances. There was no sign of anyone stepping forward to get that kid off the goddamn dance floor.
"What sort of fucking rude person does this?" I hissed to my mother as Sean went to the bar to get me something fortifying. "It's the first dances! Why is no one getting that kid off the floor?"
"Honey, be quiet," my mother hissed in return. And, yeah, my voice carries, but it sure as shit was not carrying over the yelling kid.
"I will NOT be quiet," I replied, still hissing. "I'm not gonna make a scene, but it's fucking rude to not get that kid off the fucking dance floor."
"Excuse me," a woman says to my left, "that's my child."
She was definitely not expecting me to turn to her and say, full voice, "Then get him off the fucking dance floor. This isn't about your kid."
"GAYLE." My mother said.
"Excuse you?" the lady replied, absolutely shocked I'd called her on her bullshit. She'd been standing next to me for several minutes talking to other people. I'd assumed she was just another guest. Not the actual mother of this child who was not being supervised.
"Get. Your. Fucking. Kid. Off. The. Dance. Floor." I snapped. "It isn't cute to let your kid do this."
"GAYLE," my mother tried again even though there is no question she knows it doesn't work. Because it has never worked.
"Get him off the floor, or I'll do it," I said to the woman. "And you'll find out how rude I can be."
Kid FINALLY got pulled off the dance floor. Lady glared at me the rest of the night. I had a couple of people who had overheard me (including my mom) try to tell me I'd been rude, and I refused to bend.
"Seems ruder not to corral your kid during someone's wedding," I replied every time.
"And what about if it was your kid?" I got asked.
"I'm not having any goddamn kids."
















