I dislike children. Let me clarify: by children, I mean all people under the age of 21, particularly if they are close enough to my person for me to see or hear them. I realize that I was a child once too, but I don’t hold that against myself. I didn’t know any better then. Now I do.
Like any person with an IQ above 10, I avoid things I don’t like as much as humanly possible. I don’t dance, so I don’t go to clubs. I don’t like Republicans, so I don’t attend NRA conventions. Likewise, I don’t frequent places where children are likely to be, which is why it really eats my ass when kids pop up in unexpected, inappropriate places, like R rated movies. Or fine dining establishments. Or work.
Yesterday this woman comes into the lobby with two toddlers in tow. I could hear those fuckers screaming before they even got off the elevator. My main problem with children is that they have no sense of common courtesy. This lack of manners includes mastery of indoor voices, knowing that staring is impolite, and respecting personal space. These were toddlers and therefore they can’t be expected to accept full responsibility for appropriate social interaction. I don’t blame them. I don’t dislike them any less for their lack of blame, but I don’t blame them.
The woman accompanying the kids must have been the nanny or something because she asked for a coworker of mine named Lucinda and announced to me that the hellions were Lucinda’s kids, as if I give a rat’s ass who they belong to. I called Lucinda and she didn’t answer (figures), so I sent her an email (marked urgent, and for the record, that is perhaps the most extremely appropriate urgent classification of an email EVER). I asked the nanny if Lucinda was expecting her and she said yes (which means either she lied, or Lucinda is officially on my hit list for not only inviting her children to work but not even being ready for their arrival). The nanny then asked me where Lucinda sits, which is possibly the dumbest question of all time because CLEARLY if I could get these brats out of my line of vision I would have done so yesterday, but Lucinda sits in a badge-access only area on a different floor. I’ll save visitors’ general assumption that it’s okay for them to roam about an office they don’t work in for another time.
The kids were probably in my lobby for 5 minutes but it was the longest, loudest 5 minutes of my life. FUCK those kids were loud, and they were consistently, non-stop loud. The nanny only managed to admonish them for their volume once and they were so loud that employees began to emerge from other areas to find out WTF was going on. I made sure to tell everyone exactly whose kids they were, and one employee responded by saying, “ahh, of course,” which indicates to me that this is not the first time that Lucinda’s kids have been loudly and proudly using our lobby as their afternoon playground. Eventually Lucinda sent up a woman named Sheila to escort the kids and nanny, and Sheila made a real show of cooing over the kids like they were newborn puppies, which they certainly are not, because newborn puppies know how to keep their damn traps shut.
I think Sheila’s oooing and awwwing over the kids irritated me even more than their presence, because people like Sheila are the reason people like Lucinda continue to think it’s okay to parade your kids around your place of business. People like Sheila condone that behavior by reinforcing the notion that your coworkers want nothing more than to babysit your kids and tell you afterward what beautiful geniuses they are.
I could go on and on about places you shouldn’t bring your children and why, but instead let me broadcast a little public service announcement for all you parents out there:
NOBODY BUT YOU CARES ABOUT YOUR KIDS. NOBODY. ESPECIALLY NOT YOUR COWORKERS.
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