Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Kids Schmids

I am going to confess something horrifying to you. Seriously. I might as well tell you I am a murderer than tell you what I am about to. It is much more socially acceptable to roast a kitten on a spit in my front yard than it is to admit what I am about to.

I don't like kids.

Let me correct that. I don't like most kids.

There are some exceptions.

I like children that have personality but are still polite and can behave like something besides wild animals.

In otherwords there are about three kids on the planet I like.

I don't blame the children I blame their parents.

Apparently sometime in the past couple of years it became fashionable to let your child act like an asshole. As a parent you may never say no and you may never ever discipline your child for anything. EVER.

I see proof of this everywhere.

Little kids steal, hit each other, swear, pee on the rug and generally act like little convicts while their parents watch and say "look how cute Johnny is. I bet he grows up to be in Congress."

My boss sat in her office all freaked out a few weeks ago because her daughter was mad at her for buying the wrong basketball shoes. Her daughter yelled at her.

If I had pulled that shit on my mother I would have been slapped silly and I would not be playing basketball. I would not have new shoes. It is entirely possible I would not need them--my mother might have hacked off my feet.

But people assume that you will love their children. So they bring them everywhere. Note to parents: I HATE YOUR CHILDREN. Please do not bring them to the following places:

Parties: unless a clown or magician is invited your child will be bored and disruptive. The food will not be to their taste, the host may not have childproofed their home. Many of the guests will not enjoy being stepped on or headbutted throughout the evening.

Nice restaraunts: McDonald's and Red Robin are about it for small children. If I see one more small child in a place where men are required to wear ties I will scream. My parents took me those places when I was small. But I had to use table manners, was promptly removed if I had a tantrum and never ever walked over to a table and said "EW GROSS" at what some one was eating.

Movies: "Return of the King" is not age appropriate for a three year old. It is scary and loud and long. Little Susie is going to have to pee. She will want a soda. She thinks that Frodo is ugly. I know this because she told me. She told the whole fucking theatre.

The office: Don't bring your kids to work. If it is bring your daughter to work have something for her to do--and bring a child of the right age. Six is not the right age and you know it. Do not make those of us who work for you babysit or have to listen to you yell at your kids all day. And babies. Adorable. Don't stay longer than a minute with a baby. They cry. Single women who want children fuss entirely too much and too loudly. Some of us are trying to work.

My house without telling me: I don't have children. The toys my husband owns are collectibles. I have not childproofed my home. I do not have kid food. I don't like your little brat anyway. So don't just bring him over. Ask me. That way you will know if he is welcome.

Anywhere when he is tired or hungry: Let the kid stay home and play. Naptime or bedtime is not the time for kids to be at Target. You cannot expect him to be good. So why inflict his screaming bratty ass on the rest of us?

In short, people are rude and inconsiderate. They assume because they find their children precious that everyone else will too. They don't teach them manners and then are shocked when you get pissed that the kid ate on your couch. I guess I really don't hate kids. I hate their fucking parents.

6:44 a.m. :: comment ::
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