Child Theory.

I believe a disclaimer is in order:

For starters, I have no children, so if I'm a bit harsh, feel free to skip this entry. Also, little bit of generalizing in this rant, but really only going over the few key instances that I have witnessed. Fuck it- free speech!!

Tuesday Afternoon after I sprinted my life away down the damn platform in pumps a size too small, I make it onto my 4:58 train. I have to walk the entire length of the train to find a seat but I do, and I sit then crack open my summer read. Paul Mooney's Black is the New White" is not for Too Self-Aware. Anybody who can't laugh out loud, long and hard by themselves on a train full of people should not attempt this memoir.

So I'm all engrossed in some druggy details about Richard Pryor and I see -no hear- my greatest nightmare board the train. And ironically enough I'm experiencing the same fucking thing right now as I'm typing this up.

It never fails.
It never fucking fails, I'm always on public transportation with a breeder. Always. Breeder, you ask?

Breeder: definition of n.Bree·der
1. Usually a young woman, but not always, with at least two misbehaved children in tow
2. Hogs sidewalk and rams your ankles with the Cadillac stroller
3. Usually unattended by a male; sometimes travel in packs

It's 4:57 p.m. and Breeders #1 and 2 come scrambling on the train with 3 kids A PIECE!

First, they sit behind me and I'm like, you've got to be shitting me. Not that there was anywhere else for them to sit. It's 4:57:39. The train leaves at 4:58:00. Breeder #1 instructs her little boy to sit in the empty seat next to me. I scooch over obligingly even though I'm really sour about this. This shit isn't supposed to happen to me, the cover of P. Mooney's book is supposed to be deterring any train pals.

Fortunately enough for me, the little boy dilly-dallies and soon enough two clean cut corporate frat boys give up their seats for the breeders. Breeder #2 piles in with her spawn, followed by Breeder #1 who violently (accidentally) bumps my seat in her desperate move. After quite a significant struggle with strollers, the Breeders all settle in. Not two minutes after the train begins to move, the moment everyone has been dreading arrives.

The little girl (well, one of them) erupts into a fit of the most furious cries I've ever heard. She's screaming- I mean screaming her head off. And because she's taken center stage in mommy's attention, all the other kids start whining and babbling louder than they already were. The screams are so bad that at one point I close my eyes and plug my ears. We're in a big metal box, hon. Sound has nowhere the fuck to go.

Still screaming.

People are starting to turn around and look. Now, I hate this, I really do because #1 I don't want to be that woman, that young sexy bitch with not kids and a cellphone and shoe collection as serving as her only responsibilities. I've seen them. They look back exasperatedly over their shoulders, or through the tint of their designer shades and judge. I don't want to judge. For all I know both breeders just lost both of their husbands in Iraq and their taking the kids to see Gramps in Wisconsin. So I don't judge. I don't turn around. I just read over Mr. Mooney's riff one more time trying to ignore the "Motherfucking" screaming.

Still screaming.

Well dammit, now I have to look. It's earsplitting, like she's being tortured. And everyone is looking thinking the exact same thing:

"Bitch, this is the 4:58. The fucking Corporate Express. You and you're kids could have waited and taken the 5:31"

Because honestly, who after working 8-9 hours in a box with overkill AC and fluorescent retina-frying lights and burnt coffee wants to sit in ANOTHER box with some kid's scream reverberating around inside their skulls?

Fuck that.

At this point, no lie, fifteen people get up and walk to the next car. Shaking my head I read more about Redd Foxx and Richard Pryor. Still screaming. I look back again, the Breeders are mortified. Both of them are rattled and flustered.

This helps.

Breeders Remorse. At least they feel bad about having subjected almost 100 people to this mess. Way better than those women who ignore it, enjoy it, or worse- participate. I really can't stand the mom's who egg their kids on, tickling them and indulging their high-pitched proclamations. I can't abide that shit.

Like this chick right now with her two toddlers. The kids have been shrieking since before we pulled out of the station.

"Where's your belly button? There it is!" Mom coos. "Look at the pretty trains... Let go of Mommy's hair-Jimmy. Jimmy. Jimmy!"

She's enjoying this shit. And Jimmy's getting louder by the second. Its like two squealing piglets knowingly being led off to slaughter. He's throwing a tantrum now. I don't get this shit. And it not just because I don't have kids. Well, I don't have kids, but I know kids, I've seen kids sit and play quietly. I've seen kids follow obediently and silently behind mommy. People turn their heads because that kid is so effing cute. Not because he's giving my ear a massive coronary.

Now I really hate to make this about race, because realistically, ALL kids cry. However, a trend exists among Breeders and their babies. You know the moms that plead with their kids- literally plead with a two year-old for a little peace and quiet.

I'm sorry, but I've seen it for over 20 years. Its usually the white mom with 2-3 kids running her ragged

"Shh, shh, shh... calm down Micheal" or "Sally, can you please behave while Mommy is talking to Daddy?"

For most black women this conversation never happens. It never even gets to this point. Its a look. Just a look and you know its time to shut up. That's if you're even crying. People my age remember. You don't cry in public- not in public! You have to be crazy to even whine in a grocery store. You could get popped just for pouting. And even if mom didn't get you right then, you knew what was coming later, at home, when she could really tear your little behind up.

These White kids are reckless.

Now honestly I can't generalize this. I used to be able to say only white kids fall out in public. However, that's simply not true. Latino kids will get away with shit too. They'll tear up a toy store or clothing store then fall out in Spanish. And I'll tell you, a month ago, I was proved so very wrong. I saw my first public Black-Kid-Fall-Out.

In the train station, a little boy, fingers in his mouth, bubbly drool and frothing snot. Just hollering. No tears! This is what it sounded like:

"Ehhhhhhhhhhhh!" (Takes a breath) "...Ehhhhhhhhhh!" (Takes a deeper breath)
"EHHHHHHH-AHHH!"

I was flabbergasted.

Now back to Train Theory for a moment. I'm still on the train now. The passenger in front of me has changed 3 times. The guy in front of me now is lounging, I mean hella-lounging. He's laid out sideways in the seat with his shoes off. I only notice him because I see his big toe up against the window. Now you know that ain't no home training. Just has his nasty, sweaty, funky toes on the window!

I'm sorry, but what gives?