Hockey Game = The Pit of Despair

Well, the hockey game didn’t go so well and we left after the first period. Kale had a bit of a meltdown – and what tipped the scales was those obnoxious BLAT trumpet horns that they sell. Some kid above us and another kid directly below us both had one and were freely using them. Those things irritate me on the best of days. 

Another kid, maybe 8 or so, a friend of the horn player, told Kale to “shut up” when he cried.

I told Kale if he was ever such an arrogant little arsehole I’d be sure to kick him in the pants. Little kids are rude, and most kids have zero manners and that’s simply unacceptable. 

We’re at a HOCKEY GAME where it’s LOUD and a CRYING BABY isn’t exactly DISTURBING anyone. We’re not at a library here. Yeah, a baby crying can be annoying. Trust me – I KNOW – oh MAN do I know. But seriously? Telling my baby to “shut up” when your stupid little friend is directly over my head going BLAT BLAT BLAT BLAT BLAT? I’m shaking my head here. Maybe I am giving an eight year old too much credit here, but simple manners should be directive freakin’ one for parents, as far as I am concerned. 

Anyway, so Kale won’t be going to anymore hockey games till next season. And that’s okay. We tried and it was, in my words, a COLOSSAL FAIL. Boo. Oh well. I’m disappointed but that’s okay. He’s only 8 months and there is a whole lot of hockey left in his life. 

Also, there is a whole lot of people with bad manners left in his life, too. 

We left so fast we didn’t even get a picture. 

Kale has a play date today with our friend Bonnie and her mom Shauna so today is a new leaf.

13 years ago


  1. Sorry to laugh at this blog post, but it reminded me of the time I was on a very crowded streetcar in Toronto reading the last few pages of a murder mystery. The driver was calling out each and every stop and using his mic, but a woman standing nearby had the gall to give me heck about the fact that my book was blocking her ‘view’ and she might miss her stop as a result (the view I was blocking was of someone half a foot taller than her and considerably larger – she must have had x-ray vision that could see through flesh and clothing but not paper).

    A friend and I were recently admonished by an eight year old on the street not to smoke and we gave him a bit of a hard time, I’m afraid. Just on the principle that he shouldn’t be talking to strangers in the first place and because, whatever happened to the principle of ‘if you don’t have anything good to say, say nothing at all.’ I’m thinking maybe 8 is the age at which the bratty gene kicks in though. In retrospect I think we should have just yelled back, “Eat your vegetables and step away from those video games!”

  2. Some little boys have manners! Although Liam’s “brat gene” does kick in here and there now that he’s going on 8… he would never get away with saying something like that. That’s poor parenting.

  3. It seems that gone are the days when kids wouldn’t say things like that just because they feared the reaction of their parents. I totally feared my Father growing up – and I mean that in the best way if that makes any sense, it’s not like he beat me but when you upset him for something like bad manners LOOK OUT. I hope Moira is scared enough of me that she will have lovely manners. 🙂

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