I know that most of you think that I love children, but that hasn't always been the case. A little over twenty years ago, I was told I was a child hating B*tch, and I happily agreed with the accusers.
Years ago, at the Wang Center, we were seeing the Boston Ballet perform "Swan Lake." We were in the "cheap seats," second balcony and all that, but they still weren't inexpensive by any stretch of the imagination. I had bought tickets for a friend's birthday, and we were really looking forward to the show.
Just before the show began, we heard a little noise, just enough to make us turn around and look. A family with two small daughters, decked out for the ballet. We thought it was kind of odd, since this wasn't "The Nutcracker," where you expect children, nor was it an afternoon performance. This being pre-Bob (and of course pre-DD), I really didn't think anything of it.
Until the plinking started. The parents had provided the children with snacks to keep them quiet during the performance. (I had always subscribed to the notion that any child who needs bribes to behave during a performance is too young to be there - but I digress) Apparently the snack bags had a quantity of M&M candies with peanuts, which if dropped, one by one, make an amazing echoing plinking noise as they drop down the steep steps of the second balcony, just before they fall down on the occupants of the first balcony.
I started out politely, asking the parents to control their children. But the parents had suddenly developed some sort of memory problem, and were staring at the children as if they hadn't seen the little darlings before. The little girls giggled, and the moment my back was turned, the plinking resumed.
By now, we were hearing grumbling drifting up from the first balcony, where I presume some audience members were treated to the sensation of M&Ms dropping on their heads. An usher tried to discreetly speak to the parents, with exactly zero success. The rest of us in the second balcony got to hear a lecture on how it was entirely appropriate for children to be allowed to enjoy a cultural experience, and how mean spirited the rest of the world was for "hating children."
I don't hate children, although there were two kids right there I would have happily strangled, along with their parents. These tickets, a birthday present for my friend, had made a significant dent in my budget. Even my friend was starting to get annoyed, and she teaches seriously emotionally disturbed children all day long - nothing ruffles this woman.
Finally, I reached my breaking point. Giving the parents the "wild eyed look of death," I snatched the half empty bags of M&Ms from each child and stuffed them in my purse. The father made a token protest that I was stealing, but he stopped dead when he saw the look on my face and the faces of the other theatregoers around him.
Alas, the family fled at intermission. We enjoyed the second half of the show in blissful peace. The only fly in the ointment is that I just know that family probably still recounts how horrible those child hating people were when they were only trying to expose their children to a cultural treasure. And enough time has passed that these children have grown up and (dear god) had children of their own.
I can only hope that I soured that lovely family on going to the ballet.
Kathy N-V