You need to shave the kitties before cooking.
Filthy curs. They all need to get jobs.
Everybody hates little kids. And the only people who don’t are birthing the little kids that the rest of us hate.
Once I was waiting for a subway, and there was a tiny, soon-to-be person running around, screaming, dropping crumbs on itself (probably), and being a general pain in the ass. Finally, because it was only 2 or 3 years old and lacked coordination, the kid fell down and began to scream and whine loudly, presumably in pain. This continued for much of the train ride. Hey jerk, just because you’re not that good at running without falling on your face doesn’t mean you get to shriek while I’m trying to read the newspaper. People are trying to have conversations, or listen to iPods, and whatever else people do while waiting on trains, and you’re hollering and causing a huge commotion. Knock it off, already.
Imagine having 14 in 8 years, eight of them at one time! The mind boggles.
Anyone who blames that grandmother for bitching has a screw loose.
At least now he’s old enough that being told to think before he speaks and use his indoor voice might shame him into better behavior.
I hate little kids for all the same reasons I hate adults, only you can’t yell at little kids and being snarky at them is pointless.
Wow, you got to hate a hot chick FOR sleeping with you? Cool!
Yeah, I used to hate little kids, but then I was like, they are great for entertainment value.
They are like pure Id. They are so funny. The ones that are actually well-behaved are a joy. The smart well-behaved ones are even more enjoyable.
Even the bad ones crack me up. I got no kids of my own, so it’s easy to enjoy them.
I recently volunteered to do Childrens’ Story Time at a local bookstore.
I gotta tell you, it is so much fun! The kids are so into the books I read. I taught them to say “Good morning” and, “How are you?” in Spanish and they really liked it.
So yeah, little kids can be a pain but I also find them fun!
I guess if I actually had kids I might feel differently. 
This sounds like my 19 year old.
Mine has discovered that if she moves the dining room chairs over to the bookshelf she has access to all the things we’ve put out of reach.
I’m sure that Louis CK approves of this thread.
I have two small boys. The air coming out of their mouths is the least of my worries.
I think you need to read this.
When a parent insists on putting their child on the phone with me, I take it as an opportunity to teach the child new vocabulary words.
Unfortunately, the learning sessions never number more than one.
I often warn people with small children that I don’t have the grandpa gene. I don’t like most small children, and babies are just featureless blobs to me. I don’t want to hold them, and it’s impossible to interact with them. “Isn’t she cute?” No, “she” is red lump that is either sleeping, screaming, or gazing about uncomprehendingly. I have no compunction about grabbing a misbehaving grandchild and telling him to knock off the bullshit, and then telling my own child (now a parent) to please teach his children some manners.
I can tolerate little girls, who are generally better-behaved than little boys, but children between 2 and 5 largely seem to be monsters in today’s world, learning to demand instant gratification at a very early age. Home schooled kids seem to be much better behaved than others.
Christ, that sounds like an Andy Rooney piece.
I actually don’t mind 'em so much at 2 - 4, because they really *aren’t *capable of a whole lot of impulse control. They really start to bug me around 5 or 6, when they *are *capable of it, and choose otherwise.
And don’t get me started on “we let little Joey express his feelings freely”. Well, that’s not parenting. Parenting is *teaching *little Joey to express his feelings appropriately. And while you’re at it, you might want to impress upon little Joey that a. other people have feelings too, and b. he can expect to encounter maybe a couple of dozen people over the course of his entire life who really *care *about his feelings, so the constant “free expression” of them is unlikely to make him popular.
I used to think I hated little kids too… and sometimes they definitely make me uncomfortable or feel inconvenienced, but I figured out what really bothers me.
I don’t understand why people make a big fuss about children. Protect the children, love the children, the children are helpless. It’s outright not true. Children are resilient, optimistic little fuckers who handle tragedy better than most adults, and it annoys the hell out of me how patronizing people can be to them. I had all sorts of shit happen to me as a kid, but I handled it all like a pro. My life didn’t actually become hard until I became an adult and started thinking about how unfair it all was. Kids, for the most part, are all about living in the moment, and that’s why they tend to be significantly more happy than adults. In Seligman’s book Learned Optimism he talks about how a very depressed child is about like a moderately optimistic adult in terms of explanatory style. Then sometime during puberty everything falls apart.
It’s not that I don’t like kids… it’s that I don’t think of them as any more deserving of love and sympathy and attention than adults. As my husband put it, ‘‘You feel about humanity in general the way most people feel about children.’’ I think we all need love, attention, the occasional consequence-free trantrum, and playtime.
Every time I’m forced to interact with kids (and everytime I do so it is because I’m more or less forced into it) I do try to do my best for them. I try to teach them things that their parents probably don’t – there is no God, the educational system is trying to kill their capacity for independent thought, etc.
But they’re too dumb to get it.
I’ve got two kids, and lemme tell ya a little something.
They’re not so bad. Once you learn how resilient they are, and that slathering them with platitudes is one of the worst thing you can do to them (or anyone), the whole experience becomes a very organic one.
You have to remember, we’re animals. Not metaphorically — literally. We are animals. Having a kid, is having a pet in some sense. You are raising a primate, opposable thumbs and all. And they’re clever fuckers. They’ll get into all kinds of shit, it’ll blow your mind. They’ll come up with ways to get around whatever fail-safes you have set up, you’d think they’re never going to live through the next month, let alone the next year. They’ll frustrate you, they’ll embarrass you, they get you so angry, you want to punch holes in the wall.
But at some point, they surprise you. They grow some self-awareness. They might actually take a piece of your advice. Or even do something so creative or original or altruistic, it makes you realize there might actually be a point to having a kid after all. Something really cool, and wonderful is happening here. You can’t articulate it, and you’ll never see a demarcation anywhere, but at some point you look back, and can’t see the animal there anymore at all, but an individual you might learn from someday.
Yada yada yada.
Yeah, fucking kids. They should grow the fuck up.