If You Kids Don't Shut The Hell Up, The Boogie Man Will Eat You!

Last night was one of those rare occasions where I could imagine myself slapping a child. I got involuntarily stuck watching six kids, all under the age of seven, three of whom had never met me before and were terrified of me, rightly so. The youngest brat of the bunch was a four year old who refused to say anything but “umph” in between bursts of hysterical, ear bursting screams. Their mom drove ten miles to the house I was at to ask for a ride to the ER (which was less than half a mile away at this point. Could she not have had the mute child drive the rest of the way? It was an automatic, so it’s not like he’d had to shift or anything complicated like that).


So I get to stay with all the kids…yay me. By this time it’s 1 in the morning and all the kids are wide awake and I am highly pissed off. Not only am I never awake at this hour sober, but I have to form a human barricade along the edge of the couch (which is extremely awkward and uncomfortable) to keep the screaming one from lunging himself onto the floor…again.

Here, folks, is why I should not babysit your children…especially if I am not being paid for it, cause then I’ll just be resentful and say awesome things to your kids like, “If you don’t shut the hell up, the Boogie Man will eat you.”

Only after I pretended to call the Boogie Man and give him the address did the kids fall asleep; or at least pretend to. But whatever, a silent house is a happy house!

Ugh…where is the damn key to the liquor cabinet when you need it…and who the hell locks their liquor up anymore anyway?!

It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To.

So I feel the need to say this. I. hate. kids. I hate the way they spend 98 percent of their time crying, eating, pooping, eating, crying, pooping, and drooling on things. The other two percent is the time they have to dedicate to looking adorable so their parents don't drop them off at the nearest catholic church or Salvation Army.

More than kids/babies; I hate their parents. It's like once you have a kid the earth suddenly forgets about the sun and begins rotating around you. Yes, you mother of obnoxious one year old, are the sole reason that we still have gravity, warmth and light on this planet. You.

Now I have a niece, and she's pretty great. Also I love my sister so I feel like I should exempt them from this rant so that she will not kill me will know that I am not talking about her.

One of the things that gets on my nerves the most is when someone has a baby, and insists that you come "Ooh!" and "Ahhh!" over it. The only responce they usually get from me is "AGH!" See, babies do not like me just as much as I do not like them. They cry when I am within ten square feet of them. People tell me this is because they can sense that I do not like them. Smart little tykes. I try to warn parents, but they insist on me coming over and staring at their child anyway like the thing is a two cent freak show.

This is how it usually goes:

Annoying Mother: "Hey, Kara! haven't seen you in awhile! How are things?"
Me: "Well I've bee--"
Annoying Mother: "I had a baby!! Did you hear that I had a baby?!! Don't you just love babies?!!"
Me: "Well, actually I--"
Annoying Mother: "You should come see my adorable sweet baby who is loved by the whole world in my mind because I can't come to terms with the fact that something that ugly came out of my uterus!"
Me: "You know, I would but I tend to make babies cry when I go up to them. Me and babies, we don't get along very well so I'm going to respectfully decline..."
Annoying Mother: "Oh, my baby never cries. It'll be fine. She just loves everyone!"
Me: "Okay......."

And of course we walk up to the baby. Surprise! The baby starts bawling its eyes out!! The mother and father then turn to glare at me like I just single-handedly destroyed what is left of the rainforest.

*This is not a specific example. This has happened many times.

Dear mothers,
I do not want to look at your ugly child. I do not care that the condom broke and produced the great miracle of life. I do not care that you life is over so you have to pretend that you have discovered the greatest thing you've ever known. Please stop making me pretend also.
Sincerely,
Kara Hoag