I have a lot of problems with parents of very young children, and it mostly comes down to that they think everything their baby does is cute.
Even though most of them look alike to me (does that make me a babyist?), I will say that yes, babies are often quite cute. Especially when they’re older than a few weeks and start to look like something other than a cross between an old man and one of those foam rubber aliens from a bad early 80s science fiction movie. But when your baby defecates, it is not cute. Not one bit.
I'm really not trying to be mean and I'm really not trying to be a dick or attack anyone here, because I've found that pretty much every single one of you new parents does this. All of you. No, I’m not generalizing. Damn near every single new parent does this, and I can say that because I know a lot of new parents (this happens when you’re in your early 30s). And I love them all! I really love them!
But when we're eating together, I really don't need to hear about how little Gaby "destroyed" an outfit by spraying massive diarrhea all over it. Or how you walked into the nursery and were amazed to see smooth, tan-colored stink sauce dripping down the wall next to the crib. Please stop going into detail about your baby's bowl movements, and how surprised you are that "so much can come out of such a little girl (or boy)." Please, please, pretty please, don't describe the feces to me, in great detail, and then expect me to eat the no-bake butterscotch cream cake you've prepared for dessert.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I'm thankful, grateful, and happy for you and your new little blessing! I really am!
But since it's your baby, you're the one who needs to go through these horrific ordeals of 24/7 violently splattered fecal matter on every piece of furniture the baby touches, and every outfit your friends, family, neighbors, and co-workers gave you at the baby shower. When you throw away an outfit the baby ruins with its cute little ass blasts, you put it in a trash bag and curb it so that even the garbage man doesn’t have to witness the evidence. Please give me the same courtesy and shield me from the vivid, visceral descriptions of your baby's waste matter, solid or otherwise.
If this continues, I'll be forced to describe, in great detail and with much glee, what the porcelain on my toilet bowl looks and smells like the morning after eating cheese fries, a dozen chicken wings, and a Tastycake éclair pie, washed down with several hoppy beers, a white Russian, a shot of Jack, and a couple ounces of rail tequila.
And by the way, puke isn’t cute either.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
I have a lot of problems with people who walk on sidewalks.
I have a lot of problems with people who walk on sidewalks. Not everyone, of course, just the many who seem to not grasp that they aren’t the only ones who need to use the sidewalk.
These people seem to dilly-dally aimlessly, their eyes toward the clouds, with no particular place to be at any particular time, blissfully ignorant of those of us who are using the public thoroughfare to be somewhere we need to be at a certain time.
These people never have the courtesy to stay to the right side of the sidewalk when walking on a crowded concrete path. All manner of traffic could be whizzing by, and they’ll still act like you’re invisible as you attempt to navigate past them on the same narrow stretch of walkway. They either expect you to put life and limb at risk by stepping into the street, or they simply don’t see you, no matter how large or small of a person you are.
Usually this is because they are conversing with a friend or co-worker, engaged in some important conversation about “The Bachelorette” or some other shitty TV show.
Or maybe it’s an entire family, pushing a double stroller down the sidewalk and feeling the need to walk shoulder to shoulder, taking up the entire freaking pathway as they go on their lunchtime stroll. Even ducks have the common courtesy to make their brood walk behind them in single file!
Not these fucking people. Oh no, don’t expect them to yield a single inch of sidewalk to you so you can walk by. You need to stand in the street and wait for their majestic family to amble merrily by you. Stand in the street and face this glorious gaggle of humanity, peasant! Take off your hat and show some damn respect to them. For they own the sidewalk! You’re just a gutter dwelling piece of urban feces!
These people seem to dilly-dally aimlessly, their eyes toward the clouds, with no particular place to be at any particular time, blissfully ignorant of those of us who are using the public thoroughfare to be somewhere we need to be at a certain time.
These people never have the courtesy to stay to the right side of the sidewalk when walking on a crowded concrete path. All manner of traffic could be whizzing by, and they’ll still act like you’re invisible as you attempt to navigate past them on the same narrow stretch of walkway. They either expect you to put life and limb at risk by stepping into the street, or they simply don’t see you, no matter how large or small of a person you are.
Usually this is because they are conversing with a friend or co-worker, engaged in some important conversation about “The Bachelorette” or some other shitty TV show.
Or maybe it’s an entire family, pushing a double stroller down the sidewalk and feeling the need to walk shoulder to shoulder, taking up the entire freaking pathway as they go on their lunchtime stroll. Even ducks have the common courtesy to make their brood walk behind them in single file!
Not these fucking people. Oh no, don’t expect them to yield a single inch of sidewalk to you so you can walk by. You need to stand in the street and wait for their majestic family to amble merrily by you. Stand in the street and face this glorious gaggle of humanity, peasant! Take off your hat and show some damn respect to them. For they own the sidewalk! You’re just a gutter dwelling piece of urban feces!
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