Where Is Your MOTHER?!?

This is one thing I'll never understand, how parents let their kids run wild without consequence.  On Friday night we went as a family to Pump It Up Jr to see Elmo.  Tucker had a wonderful time running, jumping and playing with me.  (I also managed to get another rug-burn like mark on my elbow from running and diving into the inflatable like a wild 3 year old, but maybe I should have saved that comment for a "Not Me Monday" like Angela.)  So back to my beef...  Children, unsupervised, out-of-control, no discipline, spoiled, WHERE IS YOUR MOTHER??  Let me explain.  I often use this phrase, "Where is your MOTHER?" whenever I see a child doing something that I'm SURE a mother who cared would NOT want their child doing.  At PIUJ there was a young child, maybe 2, who was going to the drinking fountain, getting a mouthful of water and then running around the premises until he found the perfect place (or person) to unload the cocktail of water and unknown amounts of germy kid saliva.  I witnessed him do this one time and thought, "Ok, there are lots of things that Tucker gets to do once.  He kicked me, ONCE.  But I'm telling you, there was a correction and if it happens again it won't be pretty.  So, OK, this kid just spit some water.  His mother will surly be running up to him any second now to correct the behavior and make sure there aren't any more kid-spit-fountains anytime soon."  Just as I finish my thought, Spitty goes back to the water fountain, runs over to me and Matt and unloads his second helping very near Matt's foot (probably just the bad aim of a 2 year old...I'm sure his preference would have been to soak him).  At this point, the Mommy/Teacher in me is ready to discipline this kid myself.  SIDE NOTE: For those of you who don't know me as well, I'll give you a little personal information.  I HAVE NO PROBLEM DISCIPLINING YOUR CHILDREN.  As I'm wildly searching the place for Spitty's absent mommy, he has reloaded and is headed for Elmo!  I can't help myself any longer.  I'm starting to shake and sweat with anger...WHERE IS YOUR MOTHER?!?  I still can't find his egg donor, so I pull the ultimate 2nd grade move... I tell the PIUJ supervisor.  Yes, call me a tattle-tell, that's me.  Not only do I despise unruly children, I also can't stand wet socks.  Spitty violated both of those things.  I don't think I like him.  The End.