Why I Hate Sweet, Innocent, Darling Little Children.

by Rachael on February 29, 2012 · 34 comments

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So, I kind of hate kids.

I want to like them. I feel like a bad human, like a woman missing that “maternal” gene we’re all supposed to have.

But the little turds just drive me nuts.

It’s not (just) that they’re loud. It’s not that they’re bratty, or reckless, or perpetually covered in slime.

It’s that they’re so. fucking. OBLIVIOUS.

I know it’s not their fault. They don’t know better. They’re just tiny little people with tiny little brains who are easily distracted by shiny things, and being vertically challenged doesn’t help matters when it comes to being aware of the world around them.

But it drives me batty. Everywhere I go, from Target to the grocery store to my favorite brunch joint to the city sidewalks, they’re carelessly running, tripping, poking, chasing, and generally dilly-dallying DIRECTLY in my way. The little cretins seem to have a sixth sense for the exact place I need to walk and direction I have to go, because they’re always underfoot, no matter which way I turn.

Every day, except I am an unwitting and unwilling participant.

I had this revelation yesterday, while picking up my lunch at Roti. I’d pre-ordered and paid for it online, presumably to pick it up downstairs in a matter of moments (as promised), since it was a busy day at work. I think I stood there for a solid ten minutes while the two check out girls stared vacantly through me. If they had been furiously cashing people out, that’s one thing – but one of them was meandering around, saying “like” eleventy times while chatting with the chefs, very purposefully existing without purpose, all while pointedly ignoring my death glare.

I see this kind of apathetic, pointless human being all too often, and I despise them. Those people who shuffle along in a carefree zigzag on the sidewalk, as if they’ve never considered the notion of “having a destination” in their lives. The ones who ignorantly stand on the left side of the escalator, in doorways, or in the middle of an intersection just to inhale/exhale for a little while (you know, without the burden of walking at the same time).

This is abhorrent behavior in an adult, to be sure – these are grown ass people who SHOULD know enough to be generally cognizant of the world around them. (Particularly when they’re getting paid to be – *shakes fist at Roti employee*.)

But it’s a characteristic alive and well in almost ALL children, and therefore, I can’t help but dislike the tiny beings (sweeping generalizations FTW). They’re like little, sticky mosquitos intent on preventing me from ever getting anywhere.

And when you get between me and happy hour… well, let’s just say even your short stature cannot protect you from my wrath.