Canned Goods, Rude Moms and Societal Apathy

The other day, there was a knock on our door. Both Beth and I were rolling around on the floor of the kitchen with Mia so neither of us were in any position to respond quickly. But then there was more knocking and extra-added doorbell ringing. This must be serious we thought. It wasn't. It was merely annoying. Allow me to illustrate.

Upon opening the door, I was greeted by a mid-thirties mom with two kids, a girl around three or four and a boy of seven or eight. The boy was dressed in a half-assed scout uniform.

Mom: Hi. We're collecting the food.
Me: The food? I'm not sure what you're talking about.
Mom: For the Scouts.
Me: I'm still not with you.
Mom: Um. We were out here last week leaving bags for food donations on everyone's door. We're here to collect the food now.
Me: Honestly, I don't remember seeing a bag.
Mom: Well, we left one on your door.
Me: As I said, I don't recall seeing one.
Mom: So, you don't have any food?
Me: That's pretty much what I'm getting at, yes. But we'd be happy to help. When do you need the donations?
Mom: We're collecting it now. And since you won't give us any food, we're just going to have to go to the next house.
Me: Sure. See ya.
Mom: Come on kids. These people aren't willing to help.

And then I shut the door. The combination of what was said and how it was said pissed me off. The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got. I would have been totally out of line to run after her and tell her exactly what I thought of her in front of her kids but it's not out of line to tell her here.

Dear Prissy Food-Seeking Mom-Bitch,

You pounded on my door like you and your kids were seeking protection from a blood-thirsty pack of post-apocalyptic zombies set on the destruction of the remaining members of the human race. That was the first thing I didn't appreciate. The doe-eyed guilt trip you and your kids laid on me wasn't cool either. What I don't appreciate above all else was the clear implication - in front of your children, no less - that I don't give two shits. I actually give three shits. What can I say, I'm a giver. I just don't give a shit about you. I mean, how self centered are you? How does the thought process in your head go? Me and my kids will hang little plastic bags on every front door in the neighborhood and because everyone is so freaking wonderful and because I'm so freaking important, everyone will wait patiently by their doors waiting to hand me and my kids oodles of canned goods. Because the world is about me. Wake up Dorothy. There's been a tornado.

Your look of disapproval was painfully obvious. That and the Great Wall of China could be clearly seen from space. But let me ask you this - how do you know I didn't give a pint of blood hours before you breezed into the neighborhood? How do you know I don't provide shelter for at-risk teens in my basement? How do you know that I don't donate a bazillion dollars every holiday season to help the homeless? You don't. So don't lay a guilt trip on me when you have no idea what I do. Granted, I don't do any of that crap but still...

Your condescending, all-about-me attitude is the reason I think people are stupid. As a matter of fact, you give people a bad name. Cut the condescending shit and grow the fuck up. You're trying to teach your kids to do good things but if they watch you, they're just going to inherit the same sense of entitlement that breeds nothing but shitty manners and apathy about the world in general. And we could use a hell of a lot less of that in this day and age.

Now, if I ever catch you knocking on my door again, you better be bringing me some canned goods. Some fruit cocktail would be great.

Good day to you!
Chris