Plaguing Starbucks Everywhere: Kidism
We've heard of racism and ageism, sexism and more, but over the weekend we experienced yet another "ism." It could be seen as a sort of reverse ageism, I suppose. It's nothing less than: "Kidism."
Here's the story (of course there's a story!) ...
Picture it, Sunday morning, Dr. D had left early for a meeting and to take Mud Pie to children's choir practice, so it was up to me to rouse and ready the boys and Rowdy. No problem, except as is typical of Sunday mornings, we were out of cereal/milk/anything else to eat for breakfast. So I hurried the boys and made it to D&W with ten minutes for a donut.
Added bonus, this D&W has a Starbucks inside. Mama was not yet entirely roused (read: Zombie), so I sent St. Nick up with my debit card to order me a cup of coffee.
A few seconds later he returned saying, "They were too busy. I have to go back up in a minute."
"Busy? But there's nobody up there!"
"She said she didn't have time. She was too busy."
I was ten feet away from the counter, could see four (yes FOUR) employees standing around doing absolutely nothing. While I sat there in shock, a woman approached and ordered a drink. The employees went into action, running credit cards, pouring coffee. Then it happened.
Zombie Mama got mad.
She lurched out of her seat, staggered to the counter, demanded, "Excuse me, can you explain why you would not serve my son?"
St. Nick, slightly embarrassed, "Mom, she was busy making a drink."
Stammering employee: "Yeah, um, I was making a drink."
"Right. But no one even took his order."
"But he only said—"
"I sent him up here with my debit card to order a coffee, pay for it, wait for it to be poured. So why would you not take his order?"
"Um, um, you wanted a coffee with cream, right?" Filling a cup.
"That's right. I intended for my son to place the order and pay, then for you to—"
"Here's your coffee, you don't have to pay."
Zombie mama took the coffee. St. Nick, still thinking his mom was totally unhinged, said, "yeah, there it is. Can we go now?"
Not until later did St. Nick realize the gal behind the counter wasn't actually busy. She just didn't want to bother with some dum kid. I watched his face as awareness set in - confusion, grief, anger. In that moment he grew several inches toward adulthood, and toward greater understanding of the pain "isms" can cause.
I couldn’t pay my kids to go outside. They’d drag out of bed, take bowls of cereal to the family room where they’d watch TV followed by hours of begging for “screen time” while I battled our way through the morning’s schoolwork. Months of this, years of it. We fought this battle day after day until we made a dramatic decision and drastic change.