Dear Mr. Dad on the Playground,
Thank you for loudly sharing with us intimate details of your life. We're so happy for you that you have 4 children that you didn't have to pay a dime for because you were on a scholarship to play football. We're also happy that you played for the NFL. You happily proclaimed that you once played for the Eagles, which, you know, I TOTALLY care about. I'm also glad that you ignored all four of your children AND your wife just to come over and brag to us about how great you are. It was especially touching that you shared how much money you make, and how much better you are than all those other dads in the NFL. I'm sure that you make millions, especially since your children were running around in only pajamas on a very cold day. I think the best part of your conversation with the entire playground was when you proudly announced your age. I could totally relate to you, as we're the same age, yet for some reason, you found it necessary to emphasize your youth, and how much better you were than those who wait until they're 30 to have kids. Because we all know that only idiots have babies after 30. Right. I encourage you to continue to share with others all the intimate details of your life, as well as I encourage you to stuff a sock in your pie hole. Also? It'd be nice if you learned how to control your children, as one of them all but pushed my 8 month old aside in an effort to climb the stairs first. Which, you know, no harm, no foul, but had there been, you can bet your sweet @$$ that I would have taken you down faster than you can say "Blitz". Again, thank you for making my day so much more delightful and gracing it with your pompous presence.
The mom who kept rolling her eyes