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Take a half hour ago. I am minding my own business at work (i.e. trying not to fall asleep) when a snot-encrusted creature practically jumps on the counter. It starts speaking in some caffienated language and I'm trying to avoid the chocolate/crumby/mystery flecks that are being flung in my general direction. My first instinct is to grab the lysol and spray the little goober into the next store over but it typically doesn't fly with the parents. Speaking of which...where is the parent? Yeah, no sign of mom/dad/braindead nanny. So I have to watch this little thing, trying to keep the look of horror off my face, and praying that the security guard will walk by so I can pawn this thing off on him. Instead of Incompetant Bob, the Dad of the Year comes around the corner...towing two more of the sticky, gibberish-speaking mutants. He is (of course) all smiles (that idiot) and ohsoproud that little*Insert whatever kind of name you give a kid here* made it to the glasses store all by himself (and not one single run-in with a pedophile!). After Dad translates what alienspawn is speaking, I find out that I get the pleasure of adjusting the glasses of all the little monsters. Did I mention the whole snot-encrusted thing? Yeah...the first thing they needed was a dousing in bleach. So I do my job...adjusting glasses on children is like trying to put a unitard on an epileptic speedfreak with ADHD...and they finally leave. Icky fingerprints on everything, trails of cookie crumbs smashed into the carpet, and my steadfast belief in mandatory sterilzation intact.
Don't even ask me about the rednecks that came in after them...
2 comments:
...and just think...YOU used to be one of those little critters... mwhaa haa haa
I was watching my little girl last night at dance/gymnastics class and had the same thought. Man, other people's kids are not only mis-behaved, but they're annoying and stupid. Oh, and where are THEIR parents? Geesh.
If you're gonna have kids, raise them the way you want them to act. It rocks. You'll spend every free minute with them, but far less time with those other mosters out there.
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