Obliviousness

I see.  I hear.  I watch.  I observe.  I pay attention.  I do, but some people don’t.  I often wonder how this “type” of person gets by in the world. Does not observing or paying attention somehow make life easier for them and relinquish them from any sort of responsibility?  I don’t understand this personality trait.

Waiting with my youngest son to get a haircut yesterday, I saw a mother walk in with her two young boys whom were crying about not wanting to get a haircut and heard her tell them to just sit and be quiet (in a not so loving way).  I watched as she got out her texting device and began to text away and continue to be annoyed with her children bothering her while she typed into oblivion.  I then observed her two boys (2 and 5 years old) destroy the display shelves of shampoos and hair tonics while her head was buried in her 1 ¾ inch screen.  My 9 year-old paid attention to what they were doing and looked at me as if to say, “Why isn’t that mom doing anything?” I could not believe what I saw next.

The stylist who was to cut their hair (bless her heart), called their names twice, because the mother obviously couldn’t hear (a fact already proven when the gels and texturizing creams hit the floor 22 inches from her feet without so much as a head turn) and only after the stylist walked over to the mother and tapped her on the shoulder did she lift her head.  The mother stood up and looked directly at the disaster on the floor her children so thoughtfully created and said, “Shame on you both,” and walked to the cutting chair.  She did not, I repeat, did not pick up one of the 20 some bottles and jars that remained scattered on the floor. Another stylist, on her way to break, picked them up and reorganized them back onto the shelves within a minute of her walking back to the chair.

Unbelievable!

I’m guessing this “type” gets by in the world because there’s always someone following up behind them doing what they should be doing.  Someone else watches out for the child.  Someone else cleans up the mess. Someone else gets them where they need to be.  You can’t tell me for a minute, that she couldn’t hear them dropping the bottles.  That’s just not possible.  I can talk on the phone, stir boiling noodles and hear that my two boys are giggling about the cats upstairs and that the radio in our bedroom is on.  It is possible. 

This woman’s obliviousness made my blood boil and force me to shake my head in disgust. Well, to the stranger in the hair salon; I saw you, I heard you, I watched you, I observed you and I paid attention to you.  Shame on you!