Mother of the Year

I was traveling back from a business trip where I had a fairly long layover in the Denver Airport. Lucky for me, DIA has one of the few smoking lounges left in the USA that saves the hassle of going through security just to continue this disgusting, filthy habit of mine. In an odd way, I actually look forward to hanging out at the particular lounge, as I have had random encounters with celebrities with this same bete noir, like the director Kevin Smith.
I have been having particularly tough weeks both personally and professionally and I was more bent on self-destruction than my usual self-destructive tendencies; i.e. I was chain smoking and slamming beers. But then a woman came in that jerked me out of my grimaced torpor. She appeared to be a single mother, carrying a car seat and a leash, to which her son was attached. She eventually found a table near mine and preceded to place her son in a high backed high barstool, to which if the toddler with what I perceived to have some developmental issues fell off, would have resulted in some very serious injury. In the midst of my violations of the temple of the body, I was appalled that anyone would subject their offspring to such an awful, malodorous nicotine oasis.
I looked around the room to see if I was the only one bothered by such a spectacle of bad parenting choices. An older couple at the next table over looked very uncomfortable, but refused to look at me to acknowledge my outrage. Turning back to gawk some more at this train wreck, I was surprised to learn that this could get any worse; the young mother (abuser) started drinking and sharing her Red Bull with her assumed son. So thank you young-random-encounter lady for reinforcing my perception that humanity is basically brutish and selfish. Thank you to whatever higher powers or random luck that you were not on my flight with your juiced up toddler – and may they also intervene to help you make better choices for the both of you.