Monday, December 03, 2007

Babies are assholes

I don’t really know why but I’ve been very anti-kids lately. My current running joke is to loudly proclaim that babies serve absolutely no purpose to society. (My other proclamation is the title of this post which is, to me, the greatest sentiment to come out of Sex and the City.)

Maybe it’s from living in “Stroller Slope” but it can’t be the sole reason since I don’t actually spend a whole lot of time in my neighborhood.

I think I’ve just grown tired of getting steamrolled by strollers when parents are coming out of store entrances. Or having to deal with getting constantly bumped by the implausibly large bags that parents absent-mindedly swing around while trying to corral their screaming kids.

It’s not that I even hate all kids. My twin cousins are a riot and I love them to death. They are the smartest, cutest, most delightful beings I’ve ever met. And it’s not a family bias because I can’t even keep track of the number of bratty, annoying cousins that I’d love to inflict some serious character-developing pain onto.

I admit that other kids can be great too. I sat on the F train this weekend and observed a man with a 3 year old boy who was charming the pants off of everyone around him. He was reciting funny stories or songs and offering up his dad’s iPod earbuds to fellow passengers causing every woman to coo at him.

But then directly across from him were parents with two out of control terrors. The parents looked like wrecks; the father had resigned to clutching the son’s jacket by the hood while the boy flailed around, effectively choking him at times. The mom just sat and stared at the daughter who had developed an awesome talent of kicking other riders’ possessions.

And that’s what it comes down to. Most of the kids that I want to strangle are the ones that are out of control, with the parents too oblivious, exhausted or inconsiderate enough to reel them in. So I know the blame really goes to the parents but it’s hard not to hate the uncoordinated, spit-stained scream-factories buried in Gap Kids wear.

I’m also aware that I’m being supremely critical without any first-hand knowledge of the hell that parents go through. I’ll probably be guilty of all the things I’m ranting about.

But screw all that. For now, I’m single and childless and I just want to get where I’m going without having to dodge out-of-control strollers or get tripped up by tots running wildly on the sidewalks. So parents: Stay out of my way and get your shit together!