Hey, look! Somebody brought a toddler to a Morrissey concert! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!

You chose to bring you daughter who is young enough to still be in pull-up pants to the Morrissey show at edgefield. Why you would choose to buy a child that young an $80 ticket instead of getting a babysitter… I’ll never know. You started pissing me off when you kept putting your daughter up on your shoulders, obstructing the view of others and your daughter clearly didn’t care and would rather play with her Barbie. You kept poking her and prodding her, taking her toy away from her trying to make her watch. You angered me more when I saw the child was not wearing any earplugs, even though there were a wall of speakers blaring. Then, Meat is Murder began playing. Horrific slaughter house footage began to play on the massive screen. Your daughter began to scream, cry, point at the screen, hide her face in her mom’s legs. Rather than take her outside, you chose to continue to watch the show as your poor little girl saw horrors she’s not yet cognizant to understand. All she knew is she was seeing animals being hurt and ripped apart.

In the parent’s defense… okay, I can’t think of any defense for this one. CAN YOU? Put your ideas in the comments, and while you’re there, drop in your own rant and/or confession in the I, Anonymous Blog—where toddlers don’t belong either.

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Bang bang, choo-choo train, let me see you shake that thang. Wm. Steven Humphrey is the editor-in-chief of the Portland Mercury and has held the job since 2000. (So don’t get any funny ideas.)