Have We Spoiled Our Children?
By popular request, this is a short scene of upper-crust absurdity that I hope is further from reality than my ordinary nightmares.
[Setting: An upscale gourmet coffee shop in Porsche Park, Maryland. Two well-dressed women in their mid-thirties are seated together at a table, conversing and sipping iced drinks.]
Kids are growing up so fast these days.
I know what you mean. It seems like only yesterday that they were born.
And now my Cleopatra and your Zsa Zsa are practically young ladies already.
(Sigh.) Yes. Before we know it, they'll be renting storage space for their
out-of-season shoes and taking their wedding vows.
Well, I think we've got at least three or four years before we have to face that. But I've started scouting out mother-of-the-bride dresses, just in case.
You know the other day, Cleo got her first telephone call from a friend. Since then, the phone has been ringing every few minutes. Most of the time I don't even bother answering because it's always for her.
I know the feeling! And I think it is so cute to see how much they enjoy
sucking on those cell phones. You did buy her one for her first birthday,
Certainly. I wouldn't want to suffer the wrath of a girl who was the only toddler in the Porsche Park Advanced Placement play group without her own gold-plated, monogrammed phone.
That reminds me of an incident yesterday. Zsa Zsa's phone rang and
she'd left it on the floor. I answered before it went to voicemail and told the
caller that she wasn't home. Then I said I thought she was probably
crawling around the neighborhood somewhere. I didn't want to admit that
it was likely she could be found in the Rockefeller's garden. You know
how she loves to pull tomatoes off the vine and smear them on her
clothes. And it's such a shame when I spend $245 for a designer t-shirt
imported from Paris and she shows absolutely NO RESPECT. I've tried
telling her what a pain it is for our laundress to get the stains out, but she
doesn't listen. Or maybe she just doesn't understand human language
yet. I'm really not sure which.
You know, you might be onto something here. Last night, Cleo stayed out past midnight. I've told her time and time again that her curfew on week nights is 11 p.m. But she crawled in late and climbed straight into her crib. Can you believe it? She didn't even bother to brush her tooth, and she fell asleep wearing the diamond drop earrings I bought her at Tiffany's that afternoon we flew to New York!
You think that's bad? Last week, Zsa Zsa had the nerve to want to borrow
the Jag. She thinks all she has to do is move her car seat into the driver's
spot, pile a few blocks onto the pedals, and then I'm supposed to take the
hint. Well, I put my foot down and told her that she'll have to wait to drive
until she's three and gets a battery-powered kiddie car like the other
children in the neighborhood.
My sister-in-law just bought a car for her little princess and it only cost about $3,600 at Needless Markup. I saw them at twice that amount the last time I was at F.A.O.uch Schwartz, so it's good to know they're coming down in price.
Speaking of price, I've got to tell you about the gown I bought for her to
wear to the babutante ball. And to get her ready for the big event, I've set
up an appointment at the same day spa where JonBenet went before her
final beauty competition.
Ohmigod, Zsa Zsa's coming out already? This is unbelievable. I thought girls didn't do that around here until they were between two and three.
Honey, you're really behind the times. We've got to show her off to all the
potential suitors in P.P.
[fade to yellow....]