On children and their noising

My good friend and I have had the common habit of enjoying an under four dollar breakfast at a coffee place near her house for the past few months. Then one day she told me about another place, serving much better food for the same cost in Little Italy, only a few minutes farther away.
"But I like the place we usually go to," I protested.
"Don't be silly Rotem," she said, "that place serves runny eggs and under toasted toast. This new place is much much better."
I had to incline.

We set ourselves at a table outside and waited for a waitress (or waiter) to come and, well, wait. When we were done waiting we waited some more. In the meanwhile a lady entered the restaurant followed (or actually, preceded) by a crowd of three to four children ages two to six, I couldn't say exactly since they kept running around from place to place, screaming for attention, climbing to the roof and jumping on parked cars, that sort of thing. The lady, after having inspected the premise and discovering she can sit anywhere her heart desires, camped herself and her little swarm at the table nearest to us, and proclaimed, "Never have children!"

My friend and I tried, out of sheer courtesy, to show the least amount of interest, lest she start a conversation and by doing so neglect her children, an act which we felt strongly against. The woman nonetheless showed impressive multitasking capabilities, speaking to us and at the same time tying her boys to the chairs.
"And if you ever have children," she continued, "make sure you only have girls."
"Nonsense!" I exclaimed, "At these ages girls have a mission to discover how high a pitch they can scream."

Breakfast did arrive at some point, and the weary mother realized we did not come there to lend an ear for her motherly tribulations. She moved on to handling the order of her sons' eggs and sausage and, while they were rioting in joy, I was dreaming of our old little place, with runny eggs and under toasted toast and peace and quiet since no one would dare take his children into such a dump.
"I hope I didn't disturb your morning," the mother said, "young people as yourselves should not be bothered by an old nuisance as me."
She continued to gaze into the distance the rest of the morning, trying to ignore her children as much as possible.

Ok, so I made up the last part.
Well, actually I kinda blew everything up in general. But there is a point to it. I sat at a movie theater the other day and a baby kept crying. This baby, I assure you, had no idea what was going on on the screen - how could he? Was only nine to fifteen months old. But his mother (or father) brought him anyways.

Why?
I can understand people who want to get away from their troubles at home, the constant crying, screaming, tossing of refrigerators. But what sense is there, when in the process of getting away, for one to brings his troubles with him? Is it some sick twisted reasoning saying, "If I should suffer, why not let others suffer as well?"
"Look everybody, I got this little devil at home and I want to make EVERYONE understand how ADORABLE he is!"

Some kids are such a pleasure. I swear, I've seen quiet babies in my lifetime. They were so cute! And I've seen nice little boys and girls talking sweet innocence in reasonable volume. It's just that there's a group of noisy kids and they give a bad name to the rest of them!

There are, of course, many solutions readily available to this problem. For one, we can borrow many examples from canines. Businesses can put signs saying "No babies allowed", municipal law can ensure that parents do not take their young out in public without a leash, and airline companies should demand that children under the age of eight must be put in a cage and placed in the cargo bay.

All I can say is this: When I have a child, in case the little guy tries to train his vocal chords on account of my hearing, I will simply take him to an ice-cream parlor, order his favourate flavour, and eat it all by myself. I will then promise him that unless he wants some next time, he better be quiet from now on.

Maybe we could have a nice conversation.