MISS TRANSIT AUTHORITY: S is for 'Schadenfreude' not 'Shuttle'

When we ride, we paradoxically indulge and confront our own prejudices, flaws and superiority complexes when observing the parenting styles of people we don't know.

Once riding the L, our car uncomfortably observed a barefoot 6-year-old polish the pole with her Dora the Explorer jumper during a particularly explicit kiddie pole dance. We simultaneously judged her mother while questioning our right to be doing so. We don't know them. Maybe she's... a junior gymnast? But somehow, the lack of shoes, potential for tetanus, and somewhat sloppy 'reverse hold' move implied it was just a case of shitty parenting.

Sociopolitics aside, please review the following for degrees of parental involvement, from Generally Impressive to 'Should I, Um, Say Something?,' whether faced with screaming 12 year-olds in strollers or pre-adolescent strippers.

The Decent and Compassionate Mom (see pic above):

First up, smearing Jergens all over each other! (i.e. the model to base good parenting on). Note the mutual enjoyment of company, and the shared value of facial moisture (indicating she has her daughter's present AND future well in hand).There was some Bratz doll hair-brushing somewhere in there, but we'll let it go as the interaction is clearly a loving one. Can't hate on these two. Sorry.

The "Pretend We Dont Embarrass Each Other" Style:

The barometer for how to both encourage and avoid your weirdo offspring, deftly. Let 'em wear ill-fitting clothes, mope, smoke pot, and grow their hair long enough to ensure you'll never have to make eye contact; The key is playing dumb and pretending nobody on the train, or God, is looking at him. But while you're saving money on tailors, tutors and barbershops, keep in mind you're likely going to need it for bail later on.

An Apocalypse of Estrogen:

Veering into messy over-engagement- subtle but dangerous. What seems a fussy but typical tenderness actually is foretelling a 'creeping around the back of her house in 15 years to search her trash, then sneaking inside to put holes in unopended condoms because my God, i'd like to see grandchildren before i die' dynamic. One look at the girl's face shows she can see it too. Do we step in? I don't think we can't save her unless any of you specialize in minor emancipation.

The "And You Are...?" Tragedy:

A trifecta of bad. Head buried in gaming technology, total silence and, in between them, 3 giant McDonalds bags. Ugh. Not a word was spoken the 40 minutes I rode with them. He could have set someone on fire with the leftover fries' transfat and come out of the closet and this mommy wouldn't have looked up.

These moments are more subtle than the usual breeder nightmare commutes, and hopefully will help you identify certain warning signs. That, of course, you're free to ignore and later privately label under the category, 'If I Had Kids, I Would NEVER....' Don't thank me- thank yourself. We're luckier for your hypothetical superior parenting styles (especially if that mom ever starts popping holes in your diaphragm; we'll need them).