Children, I mean.
I don’t consider myself some kind of grumpy inconsiderate asshole who can’t stand humanity.
I just can’t fucking stand kids.
Not in a "get the hell away from me you little shit machine" kind of way, I just don’t have the energy or the patience to deal with all the attention and the needy, selfish nature that these little bastar… I mean these little darlings have.
I was at a mall today, and it was just depressing to see parents struggling to keep their offspring in check while the little devils ran amok shrieking, jumping, and practically destroying stores, while employees watched them helplessly and picked up after them, secretly hoping to smack those kids across the head so hard they’d start talking backwards. I was able to distinguish between three kinds of parents as I watched from the sidelines:
- The Intimidator: When the child becomes incredibly unruly, this man or woman grabs his offspring by the arm/hair/clothes with a kung-fu grip, while reciting threats in a deadly whisper that, oddly, everyone around can hear. "No more playstation for you when we get home, alright!?" or "No happy meal!" or "I’ll never bring you to another store again!". That last one, as you all know, is utter bullshit, or else shopping malls everywhere would be a slightly more pleasant experience.
- Deadpan: It seems this kind of parent has been so desensitized by the utter chaos caused by his/her kids that he/she no longer feels the need to scold, run after, scream, or threaten the kids when they get difficult. This parent just stands there, browsing the store peacefully, while their children destroy it. Eventually, if their little minions break or knock something down, they just mutter an emtpy "hey, stop that." Or "Stay still." Said in a lifeless monotone and without even turning to look at them, as they continue checking out products without sacrificing their inner peace.
- Smackhappy: These parents don’t take no shit. When their kids start getting unruly, they will not hesitate to smack the living shit out of the little buggers, no matter how many people are around watching horrified and thinking what a horrible parent this person could be, not realizing that a good smack every once in a while does wonders for a child’s disciplinary upbringing. On the other hand, some of these people get so used to solving their child’s behavior problems with a good ol’ bitchslap, that at the slightest sign of misbehaving you see their hand flying across the air in blinding speed, with the poor, unsuspecting kid as a target.
Not all children are like that, and I am aware of it, but after seeing such a crude portrayal of what it’s like to raise a kid in this sort of environment, I can’t help but feel… well… freaked out. I know I’m not supposed to worry about having to raise one anytime soon, since men still cannot impregnate themselves. Thank god. It’s just that… I put myself in their position, and i know I wouldn’t last a day. I would start looking for a receipt to see if I could return the kid and exchange it for a gift card.
Take my niece, the Pint-sized Banshee, for example. Lovely kid, smart, and sometimes a bit of a Diva (guess it runs in the family). She starts playing with me and asks me to blow bubbles or some other stupid shit. I oblige, not knowing what I’ve got myself into. After fifteen minutes of senseless, inane playing and listening to the phrase "do it again!" for the thousandth time, i get up and leave. That prompts my niece to bug me so I keep playing with her, but by then I am bored and annoyed beyond words. I refrain from saying "Fuck off" because she’s only 3 years old, and most importantly, grandma is nearby.
My refusal to keep playing prompts an ear-piercing wail (thus the name: Pint-sized Banshee) and an annoyed grandmother blaming me for her darling girl’s distress. At that point I break down and thell both of them to go fuck themselves, then I go to my room and put on some earphones with loud music to drown the shrieking.
My dad says god will curse me and I’ll have more than five kids when I get married.
Boy, is he in for a surprise.
In a related story, when somebody brings a baby, everybody in the room huddles around it and goes "Awwwwww" and comment on how cute it is while I’m minding my own business and thinking how lucky I am because I don’t have to change a single poop-smeared diaper. Yuck. Then they have the nerve to call me insensitive because i’m not showing any interest in it. What’s the big deal, it’s just a fucking baby, not a pile of cash.
Now that would make me go "Oooooooooh".
Besides, all babies look like aliens.
