Trust Fund Babies’ Babies

Mom’s a part-time yoga instructor. Dad’s “in a band or something.” What’s that spell?

Trust Fund Babies!

If you’re from a normal town — you know, where pretty much everyone works, takes care of the kids, or both — you might not be aware of this phenomenon, but there are young folks who move to San Francisco to pursue their (usually vague, artsy) dreams after they’ve inherited a lot of money. Sometimes, as a sort of fashion accessory, they have kids. And today, a huge tragedy befell one such family: the babysitter quit. Just up and got a better, full-time job, the little tramp!

So it was today, as Trust Fund Mom watched her 4- and 6-year olds at the playground — well, not really watched, because she was engrossed in conversation. Instead, Trustfundy — a relative stranger to the playground — let the kids run wild with a gang of “big boys,” much to the delight of Park Buddy, thrilled that Buddy Boy was learning cool new games like “Guns.” (“Bang bang! You’re dead! NO, you’re DEAD!”) This particular “Guns” game involved a lot of wrestling, jumping into the sandbox next to the little babies, and kicking each other when no one was looking. Yikes.

At one point, Trust Fund Toddler had a golf ball — a real golf ball — that he was calling a “bullet.” Knowing no good could come of that, Park Buddy tried to explain that it was not a great toy for the playground, and even tried to trade it for a rubber ball. Finally, Trust Fund Mom came over and decided — you guessed it! — that her “guns”-playing toddler could handle a golf ball.

No one who’s ever seen a toy become a projectile would have let her kid keep something like that on “Guns” day. Giving the playground up as a lost cause, Park Buddy and I hightailed it out to hang at a café. Sitting there sipping our coffees, we fed the kids bits of bagel and fruit as they stomped on the psychedelic dominoes that were stenciled on the sidewalk.

So maybe San Francisco has its fair share of rich parents who hire other people to raise their kids, to the point where they don’t even know how to gently curb their boisterousness. But our town has saving graces, too, like cool, independent caffeine depots every couple of blocks. Not to mention: some of those trust fund babies go to overpriced art schools and paint funky stuff on the sidewalks to entertain our kids.

Besides, Boobaby’s mostly back to her jolly self. No “Guns”-toting Trustfundies are going to ruin that for me!