**disclaimer - sorry if this blog pisses you off. But I have to get this off my chest**
So Todd and I went to the Queen of Heaven lawn fete this past weekend. And aside from Western New York showing an AMAZING amount of class (sarcasm) we saw a few things we just. can't. let. slide.
Firstly: Stickers.
People these stickers have gotten out of control. I do not now, nor have I EVER given a SHIT about any honor student. No matter where they go to school. Or if your spawn was student of the week. Couldn't care less.
Also, these little family stickers. You know, on your back window showing me how many people, dogs, turtles and whatnot are in your family? Yeah, I don't dig on those either. I think it's ridiculously self-centered and arrogant to assume that the person behind you in traffic gives a rat's ass how many assholes you're carting around in your too big SUV that you can't even park properly.
Every time I see these stickers I want to knock on your window and say "Hi, arrogant shit head? Yeah, NOBODY CARES."
You earn extra asshole points if these fucking stick figures are wearing mickey mouse ears.
Secondly: Pacifiers.
Now, in general, I have no problems with babies using pacifiers.
Key word: BABIES.
When you are carting around a toddler who's at least 4 years old and STILL clinging to that thing, I can't help but wonder what sort of complex your child is developing before your eyes.
Now, I GET it. It's a crutch. A soothing method.
But people, I hate to sound mean, but here it is: LIFE IS NOT ALWAYS EASY. That being said, WHY would you train your children to learn that you will never ever take things away from them? And then, when they're 8 and you smack something out of their hands they throw a volcanic meltdown in the middle of Target and you blame THEM. When clearly it's your fault for being a spineless weakling.
It probably sounds harsh, I realize this. But come ON. If your child is old enough to TELL you what their problem is and why they need to be soothed then they DON'T need a pacifier. End of story. Period.
Thirdly (and much along the same lines): If your child is A)over the age of eight or B) weighs more than say 95 pounds, DO NOT LET THEM RIDE IN A STROLLER FOR GOD'S SAKE. If you have to fold your pre-teen up like a piece or origami to get it to fit in the stroller they are OBVIOUSLY too big. Make the little spoiled rotten shit WALK. Also, if your youth is abnormally rotund, you should take away the corn dog and MAKE THEM WALK.
Now I also understand that some people have tazmanian devil children. If you have a child like the proverbial bull in said china shop, there IS a solution for that. It's called a leash. It's only cruel if you put it around their neck. And works a dandy job for the under five crowd. If your child is older and you STILL can't control your little hell beast, maybe the problem isn't them, it's you.
I realize this post is REALLY nasty. But I'm being totally honest when I say that I lost ALL FAITH FOR THE FUTURE OF THE HUMAN RACE this past weekend. Fat mouthy children swearing at their parents. Festooned with toys and prizes and fried food. Kids that were obviously well into grade school in strollers WITH BOTTLES!!
PARENTS! Wake up!
You are over-coddling your youngsters. And then you have the AUDACITY to cry fowl when they reach school age and can't do a hot damn thing for themselves. You have the gall to blame the TEACHERS for not instilling this sense of independence into your PUDDING of a child. A child that you reared to never be able to think or act for themselves. A child you told could have anything they want. Then they get into the real world and discover rain is wet and snow is cold and suddenly they are very unhappy.
If you have one of these poor disillusioned children in your home, I'm sorry to say that it's no one's fault but your own.
So pull your pointless fucking stickers off your car, take the goddamn pacifier away and teach your child to USE their backbone.
Good day.
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