Mrs. Conception

I was waiting for the train at Penn Station the other day and witnessed the following exchange between a father and his son, around age 10.

Son: Dad, can I go look around?

Dad: No, we’re going to miss our train as it is.

Son: (shocked) We are?

Dad: Yeah, if your mother doesn’t hurry up.

Son: Oh.

Dad: The train is coming and we have to get you dinner. I cannot believe her. This is ridiculous.

Son: It is?

Dad: We wouldn’t have this problem if she would just do what I say. She has to be the boss.

Son: Because she had to use the bathroom?

Dad: Yes! She drives me crazy!

(Mom finally exits the ladies room after waiting in a line of about 35 women. Dad looks at her in disgust and walks away, totally ignoring her.)

Dad: Come on, Alex. Let’s go.

Maybe I was just grumpy after walking 20 blocks in a pair of really cheap Payless boots, but to me, this doesn’t seem to be the best way to talk about your wife to your son. I see lots of therapy and divorces in this poor kid’s future…