Let's just get it out there. Chuck E. Cheese is a disaster. Unless you have an affinity for drug deals underneath the animatronic show, contracting herpes or really, really bad pizza, most people avoid the place like Planned Parenthood on a Saturday.

Rob and I didn't plan to take our kids to Chuck E. Cheese, no, instead we took them to the much more socially acceptable local trampoline park, which turned out to be closed because it was a Sunday - a weekend day - aka a day all kids are out of school - aka one very bad business decision because hello! it's the weekend and when else are kids supposed to break an ankle jumping into the foam pit…however that is neither here nor there and the moral of the story is the tramp park was closed, our kids were pretty upset and after ten minutes of begging to go to Chuck E. Cheese instead we gave in like most incompetent parents these days who would rather just say yes than expend energy actually, like, parenting.

So there we were. It was shoulder-to-shoulder traffic, much like Vegas on New Years Eve except Rob wasn't drunk. (I was, in case you missed that. Turns out, plastic Starbucks containers with "water" is perfectly acceptable for a high-class joint like Chucks.) Somehow, Rob and I got split up, with him in one corner of the place with one kid while I was on the other side with my 5 year old.

There is this game similar to jump rope. You stand on a platform and when the digital lights circle around, you "jump" over them. The line was five deep. My precious little angel baby was waiting patiently, super excited to try his turn and win a few tickets that at best would get him a piece of gum. (You know how they do there -- get your kids all uber excited about winning all these prize tickets and then when they get to the counter to claim their reward, their only options are paperclips or superglue, unless you pony up twenty extra bucks and then they get to pick out an amazing toy that would cost you $6.99 at Target.)

Back to the story. Gunner's turn was coming up. We had been waiting a while and there was only one person in front of him. A girl, about nine years old. She stepped up to the platform and took her turn. When her time ran out, she reached into her pocket and plunked in another token. Alright, no big. So she got a little overly juiced up and wanted to continue on her winning streak. After her second turn was over, I was astounded when she reached into her pocket yet again and plunked yet another token into the machine.

You know when you say something to your dog that really entices them such as "want a treat?!" and they kind of cock their head to the side like so? Yeah, that. That is what I did as I watched this little hussy in front of me overstay her welcome. And then Gunner looking up at me with his angel eyes wondering why he wasn't getting a rightfully deserved turn to jump rope his way to a plastic superhero toy marked up 2000% really lit a fire inside of me.

Of course, given that I'm a decent human and forgiving the fact that this female was only in the single digit age bracket, I politely waited for her to finish her third turn and caught her attention right before she was about to reach into her pocket again for a token.

"Hi there, would it be okay for my son to have a turn now? He's been waiting in line for a while."

Homegirl looked right at me, gave me her best you disgust me look and turned back around to play another turn.

That dog-head-cocked-to-the-side thing? Imagine if that dog was possessed, about to have an exorcism performed on him. Also see : Oh haaaaaaiiiillllllll no girlfriend!

So I took a step forward and stood between the jump rope machine and the hustler. Still nicely, still politely, still giving this young lady the benefit of the doubt. I mean, maybe her mother watched The View while pregnant, you never know. And once again, I declared, "you don't understand. My son has been waiting patiently in line and it's his turn. You had three turns and now it's his turn."

What came next I am still trying to grapple with. I mean, I didn't walk into Chuck E. Cheese's thinking we were at some upscale Build-A-Bear workshop. I knew what I was facing. For God's sake, I snuck in vodka in a Starbuck's container! Still. Still. I wasn't expecting to hear the following:

"Go ahead ugly. You look like the Kardashian with the big nose."

Right about now would usually be the time I would pull out my numchucks and karate a bitch, but I was just so…...I mean.…..did she just…...???

Oh. my. gawd. 

She said I look like Khloe Kardashian.

Forget my kid and his jump rope aspirations.

This is the BEST. DAY. EVER.

Like, ever.

(Please God let her have been referring to Khloe and not Bruce.)

I got a few well intentioned emails over the the weekend. Two, to be exact, but that's enough to warrant an entire blog post dedicated to an answer, especially when the question is so stupid it makes my brain hurt. 

Someone named Molly wrote the following:

Ummmmm, why do you not make your kids wear life jackets when they are on the boat or in the water? Are you stupid? Do you want them to drown? 'Cause it seems to me like you want them to drown, since you are so careless with their safety. Idiot.

(This email just about sums up the other one, so I won't grace you with even more intelligent rhetoric.)

Oh Molly. You charming, sweet-natured silly Molly. 

Let me start by saying that no, I do not wish for my children to drown. Do I wish for them to suddenly become mute between the hours of 4 and 7 pm? Yes I do. Do I wish for them to grow up and become millionaires by either a) playing baseball or b) building rocketships so they can then buy me my own private jet? Of course. Do I wish they learn to wipe their own butts eventually? Absolutely. 

But do I wish for them to drown? 

Nah. 

I'd miss the hugs and kisses at night. And besides, they're totally tax write-offs. 

But to answer your ever so pressing question Molly, in the state in which we reside, life jackets aren't required for kids if they are cruising in a boat over 20 feet long. Do we have to have them readily available on the watercraft should a tsunami arrive? Yes. But is it against the law for kids of any age to be sans life jacket on a boat like ours? Unfortunately for you Molly, no, it is not. Womp womp. 

Do I require them to wear one if they are to say, swim in the river where their little toesies can't touch? You bet your last shot of vodka I do. Which is probably why you haven't seen one single photo of them swimming in the river without sporting a life jacket. 

In other words Molly, mind your own damn business. 

But thanks for your email. It really got me thinking. Thinking about how best I can raise my kids so they don't turn into idiots like yourself. 

- I will teach my kids to take responsibility. If they spill hot coffee on themselves, they will try harder next time to not be such a klutz. They won't sue McDonalds.

- I will teach them to respect authority. If someone in charge gives them a command, they will obey no matter what. If they want to change the rules, they can put in the effort and use their brain and get themselves to a place where they really can change the rules. In other words, don't bitch unless you're willing to do something about it.

- I will teach them to buck up. If they want to play with the big boys and they get hurt in the process...too bad so sad little one. Name of the game.

- I will teach them how to properly use playground equipment. And when or if they fall off and break a bone, I will drive them to the nearest emergency room and not to the nearest lawyers office. I've said it once and I'll say it a million times...we ain't raising no pussies around here. 

- I will imbed in my kids the importance of common sense. Like, don't eat crayons and never tattoo the name of some random broad on your body.

I could go on, Molly, but I have some important matters to tend to. 

Such as living my own life and concerning myself with my own problems and not writing ridiculous emails to people who couldn't give a shit less what I have to say. 

Bye sugartwits!