On children

I went shopping yesterday. I hate shopping, but sometimes I have to if I want to remain fat and happy. Well, at least the fat part.

The reason that I hate shopping is people. Those dirty little wrigglers that we are forced to share our personal space with in order to get the best deals. The worst of the wrigglers are the kids. They make me want to carry a gun and practice retroactive birth control wherever I go. (“Excuse me ma’am, may I see your child rearing card? You don’t have one? I’m sorry. BAM!!)

Today was a perfect example. Imagine if you will, a preteen girl, (I think they call them tweens now) standing before her father figure, asking for money. Well, not so much asking for money, but DEMANDING money by yelling over and over in a loud voice, “Give me money, give me money!” and stomping her feet in a petulant frenzy.

Just that much alone would give me cause to shoot her in the head if this were a civil society, but it is not and I am no longer allowed to go armed.

Then she did something that should have put her in the hospital at least. She SLAPPED her father!! Not a playful slap, mind you, but a full on Bitchslap! If she were my daughter I would have dragged her sorry ass out of that store by the hair in order to teach her the fear of God in private. She is not my daughter, I could not drag her sorry ass out of the store, and I shall not do anything in order to avoid violating my probation. (But they can’t take my thoughts away.)

My advice to parents out there who might by a happy chance read this; demand that your children treat you with as much or more respect that you expect from your friends and coworkers. If they do not, take everything away that they expect for free, sell it at a yard sale, then sell your kids to the first passing stranger that expresses an interest.

It beats the hell out of making bail.