Saturday, September 16, 2006

A Moment for an Un-PC Position

Screw it all. I don't care HOW this sounds.

I. Don't. Like. Children. Especially. YOURS. I shall amend that to include In. Public. Places.

I don't even think I would care much for mine. While I think Andrea Yates is completely batshit loonball, the only difference between her and any other mother of numerous children all under 6 years, 3 feet, and 50 IQ points is she gave in to the little voice that said "make the lambs stop screaming."

I can't go anywhere I used to think was designated for grown-ups without running into some moppet demonstrating their latest mastery of vocal registers coloraturas train for at La Scala. They're in restaurants, screaming cause hot dogs aren't on the menu at the Classic Cup. They're at the Crave Cafe, tearing down flyers on the public info bulletin board (well, don't have too much to bitch about there, but they're getting in my way while I try to get a refill). They're at the movies, babbling through The Illusionist. Some of them are even in bars where I'm trying to escape the crappy parts of life (LIKE CHILDREN) and get drunk.

Kansas City is trying to get a smoking ban passed. I'm not a smoker and neither is my husband, but we do not support the smoking ban. He doesn't support it because he thinks if we're gonna ban smoking, then we gotta ban perfume (marital pet peeve I can live with). I don't support it because it's the only way to keep the little tykes away unto me.

I hear Susan Smith is looking for an online pen pal. Think I'll drop her an e-rant.

PS: I don't friggin' believe this. Some hipster dad just let his rugurchin trot at full speed into the room where I'm trying to work. The kid is screeching like Frankie Vallee. Dadster is all, "ain't I cool, I bring my kid to the coffee house!" I'm all, "get that little snot factory away from me." Holy mother, the next headline you will read is this one "Librarian beheads towhead toddler in coffee house. Father aghast. Staff applaud." They are sitting at the table next to me and the kid won't sit down to eat his breakfast. If the noise weren't so deafening, I'd actually enjoy the father's predicament. I think I'll get all Zen about it and enjoy the Dadster's discomfort.

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