We took the kids to a nice park on the quiet end of town tonight. Home to several baseball fields, there's also a nice dual-playground setup surrounded by a forest so we can sit and watch the kids romp about.
One of the two playgrounds is set up more for older children, and one is built on nice thick foam padding and is geared more for the younger ones. When we arrived, aside from an organized game of softball on the nearby diamond, the playground was empty.
For a while the kids had the run of the playground and were laughing and carrying on and generally having a good time. Minutes later a gold, heavily blinged-out Lexus RX300 spat out two adolescents and their mother and grandmother who felt compelled to sit just off the side of the playground and chat while half-assedly holding the tiny leash attached to their barking, yapping, snarling pit bull.
Who the hell brings a god damned pit bull to a playground? That's like taking a fat guy to a farm with young twinkies running and covorting in a sugar-coated, glistening field of icing.
