10 Reasons Your Kid Is An Asshole
The older I get, the more I hate kids. Not all kids, of course, just yours. Maybe it’s simply the law of averages, as Americans keep getting dumber with each successive generation. Or maybe it’s just because I’m becoming more of an asshole myself as the years go on.
Regardless, the fact remains: a lot of you idiots are breeding, and creating bigger idiots. Or even worse, assholes. Look, I’m not some bitter kid hater, but I know that most kids are truly assholes at heart because, in the end, most people tend to become assholes. Even the ones who try to be nice are doing so against their asshole nature. Having a kid only makes you a bigger asshole. All that undue stress can’t be good on a human. The moment I realized not having one was an option, I felt this tremendous weight lifted. And now I’m enlightened, happily going through life without all that pressure that parents immediately have thrust upon their shoulders the moment they realize the pregnancy test is about the cheapest part of the next 18 years. And that the worry never, ever stops.
I get it, by the time it’s all said and done, you’ll have molded a human being to do your chores and take care of you in retirement. But I’ll have had a shitload of guilt-free fun, with plenty of money left over to pay for my bankrupt soul, and hopefully eldercare. And that sounds a whole lot better than living with an asshole for 18 years.
But I digress. The point here isn’t that you’re an asshole for having kids. It’s that your kid’s an asshole because of you. Here’s why.
Reasons Your Kid Is An Asshole
There’s More Than Two Of Them
Certainly China’s one-child policy was a bad idea. And I suppose similar problems could occur if you prevent people from having more than say… two kids. But theoretically speaking, wouldn’t we all be a lot happier if at least in public spaces, there was only one child per parent? Wouldn’t that just be great, seeing as the fewer the kids, the merrier? ( particularly for us sane people) But sanity left the building the second you had your third kid. Even more so when you had the fourth. Especially when you bring them to the restaurant where I’m trying to eat, and I can’t even enjoy my meal because I’m just sitting there, aghast, questioning your nefarious motives for having so many kids. Are you running your own personal sweat shop? Do you just love yourself that much that you must stare into your own eyes at every possible angle? Are you a religious zealot longing to burn my kind at the stake?
They’ve Got Names That Starts With The Same Two Letters As Each Other
I’ll give you one goddamn letter — Bobby and Billy, for example — although even that feels like one too much. But if your child’s name is Brent, and your other child’s name is Brenda, then both Brent and Brenda are assholes.
They Get Me Sick
Why does your child have so many germs? Why is thier nose always oozing with coagulating, multicolored mucous? Why are they and their snotty nose near me in the first place? I’m not in your home, and you’re not in mine. Obviously this is a public space, which has now been thoroughly infected by your asshole child.
I Hear Their Stupid Cartoons
Hell is not just children, but children watching inane made-for-kids broadcasting. Adults being subjected to such sounds rarely come out with the same sort of mental capacity they had before. And those that do are scarred for life. Is it that hard to buy a cheap set of headphones? Do we all need to be stultified because of your asshole kid and their terrible taste in television?
They Don’t Say ‘Please’ Or ‘Thank You’
Saying “please” and “thank you” are two of the easiest things a human can do to immediately communicate their asshole level to other humans. If you don’t say such gracious words, regardless of your level of concentration on terrible children’s program, you’re an asshole. Plain and simple.
They’re In A Double-Wide Stroller
Why are your kids taking up an entire city sidewalk? They’re like 10 pounds each, but there’s not enough room for me? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been forced into oncoming traffic. How are double-wide strollers even legal? Your asshole kids could have been charged with manslaughter, had I not been so nimble. On a highway, legally speaking, a double-wide trailer must clearly be marked as having a “Wide Load.” Shouldn’t we require the same of the double-wide stroller? And while we’re at it, maybe we can make an “Assholes on Board” sign necessary, too.
They’re On Facebook
Why the hell am I looking at pictures of your asshole kid instead of pics of you in your bikini? Oh, that’s right, you no longer wear a bikini because you had an asshole kid! And now my feed is clogged with pictures of your asshole kid with food all over his face instead of provocative pics of the girl I used to think was hot in high school. Which, by the way, is pretty much what Facebook was originally billed as.
They Mean I Never See You Again
Why is it that once you have a kid, I never see you again? Is it because you’re an asshole, or because your kid’s an asshole? I suppose it’s a little of both, but either way, your kid’s an asshole. We used to be tight, man, but you let that little f–ker get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
They’re The Subject Of A Conversation Around Me
I can’t stand overhearing conversations, even when they’re interesting. It just seems like a violation of my personal space. But when that conversation is about your asshole kid getting a participation trophy for texting his asshole way through life, well, it’s especially irksome. Why do you need to talk about your kid to another adult, who most likely doesn’t actually care? Is your child really doing anything all that interesting?
I Have To Buy Them (And You) A Gift
I love getting my nephews gifts. Especially when I know I nailed it. But in order to nail it, I have to invest a lot of scratch. Then, I have to go and get my brother and sister-in-law gifts, too? That seems like a lot to ask. But in reality, I wouldn’t begin to call my nephews assholes. I love them more than anything in the whole world (other than myself). So I guess what I’m really saying here is that my brother’s an asshole.