I Hate Babies!

Shop-Talk by Chris Lebedeff

Babies. I am not a fan, and they must be stopped.  They are loud, tiny little monsters that lack the capacity of overall function, yet excel in their abilities to destroy, stink, and all around vex. I don’t think it’s beyond the realm of reason to say that they have mind control powers as well.

Why else do we fawn over them and attend to their beck and call? When I say “we”, clearly I am using the inclusive and general term, and am not referring to myself in the slightest.  They do nothing but drool and make noise while sitting in pools of their own filth.

Babies are supposed to be cute, aren’t they?  Puppies, kittens, and basically any other baby mammal you can think of have got cute down to a science.  They’re all big eyes and curiosity and fuzzy-dream wonderfullness.  Babies are the polar opposite.  Instead of cute furry miniature versions of us, they’re tiny, hairless, and stare incessently, as though they’re questioning our every move and constantly asking, “Why?”

Perhaps “why?” is an appropraite thing for them to ask, though, as their defining characteristic is their curiosity, which only aids in their destructive nature.  Sure, the world is shiny and new for them, and they’re eager to find out about new things, and I’m the pope.  When a baby touches something to “learn about it”, there is an inevitable round of smashing the object in question onto the floor, banging it around with wild abandon.  Normally this is accompanied by a visage of smiles and laughter as the sadists that all babies are comes out, and they revel in the destruction they create for pleasure.

I don't think I like your attitude Mr....

For all of their faux-helplessness, babies have a unique system of communication between each other. In Disney’s animated classic 101 Dalmatians, when the puppies go missing, word is spread across the land via a system of dogs barking. This is known as the “Twilight Bark”. When one dog hears the bark, he echoes the call, sending the message further along. That is how babies function in public.

When one cries, they all cry, as if to say “PAY ATTENTION TO US, DAMNIT, WE ARE YOUR OVERLORDS!” and a never ending cacophony ensues.

Don’t try to feed me some line about “ferber-izing” your kid, or whatever you want to call it.  When your child is bawling in a store, do each of us a favor and take them outside, and do something about it, before I do something about it.

For all intents and purposes, anything younger than 5 years old is just a baby with mild cognizance.  Do they really act any different?  They’re still totally dependent, just more vocally demanding of those rearing them, “Mom can I have this, Mom buy me that,” and the like of that.  However, with age comes size and strength, and they can reach places they couldn’t before, and thusly allowing them to get into more mischief, and to touch things that I don’t want them to.

Ladies and gentlemen, I work retail, which is partially to blame for my obvious distaste for younglings.  For no reason at all, they’ll touch every product on a shelf and create a giant mess.  They will pick things up and put them somewhere else, just for the sheer wont of it, and there’s no guidance or correction by the parents, who are probably just glad it’s not their mess to clean up.  It’s just abhorrent to me how parents deal with their children in retail settings.   It’s 9 pm, and you’re going to drag your brood of unholy noise and product touching into my store?  Do you fail to realize that tiny humans don’t have the same sleep schedule as regular sized humans?

Honestly I’d move for some sort of chemical castration in these scenarios to stop people of such obvious ignorance from reproducing.  Unfortunately, they’ve already done so, and I’m left to imagine myself having explosive telekinesis and using it on them.

The point I’m trying to make is a very simple one.  I hate babies.  I’ve had bad experiences with them to the extent that if one isn’t being a little terror, then it’s simply the calm before the storm, and soon the little bugger is going to implode like a black hole of stank, bawling, and loathing and crush me at event horizon.  I’d prefer to just avoid them all-together, but it’s an impossibility to do so, and so I’m left to stare with malice and twitching eyes as one child or another decimates either my patience, my eardrums, or my workspace.

Babies. I am not a fan, and they must be stopped.  They are loud, tiny little monsters that lack the capacity of overall function, yet excel in their abilities to destroy, stink, and all around vex. I don’t think it’s beyond the realm of reason to say that they have mind control powers as well. Why else do we fawn over them and attend to their beck and call? When I say “we”, clearly I am using the inclusive and general term, and am not referring to myself in the slightest.  They do nothing but drool and make noise while sitting in pools of their own filth.  Babies are supposed to be cute, aren’t they?  Puppies, kittens, and basically any other baby mammal you can think of have got cute down to a science.  They’re all big eyes and curiosity and fuzzy-dream wonderfullness.  Babies are the polar opposite.  Instead of cute furry miniature versions of us, they’re tiny, hairless, and stare incessently, as though they’re questioning our every move and constantly asking, “Why?”

Perhaps “why?” is an appropraite thing for them to ask, though, as their defining characteristic is their curiosity, which only aids in their destructive nature.  Sure, the world is shiny and new for them, and they’re eager to find out about new things, and I’m the pope.  When a baby touches something to “learn about it”, there is an inevitable round of smashing the object in question onto the floor, banging it around with wild abandon.  Normally this is accompanied by a visage of smiles and laughter as the sadists that all babies are comes out, and they revel in the destruction they create for pleasure.

For all of their faux-helplessness, babies have a unique system of communication between each other. In Disney’s animated classic 101 Dalmatians, when the puppies go missing, word is spread across the land via a system of dogs barking. This is known as the “Twilight Bark”. When one dog hears the bark, he echoes the call, sending the message further along. That is how babies function in public. When one cries, they all cry, as if to say “PAY ATTENTION TO US, DAMNIT, WE ARE YOUR OVERLORDS!” and a never ending cacophony ensues.  Don’t try to feed me some line about “ferber-izing” your kid, or whatever you want to call it.  When your child is bawling in a store, do each of us a favor and take them outside, and do something about it, before I do something about it.

For all intents and purposes, anything younger than 5 years old is just a baby with mild cognizance.  Do they really act any different?  They’re still totally dependent, just more vocally demanding of those rearing them, “Mom can I have this, Mom buy me that,” and the like of that.  However, with age comes size and strength, and they can reach places they couldn’t before, and thusly allowing them to get into more mischief, and to touch things that I don’t want them to.  Ladies and gentlemen, I work retail, which is partially to blame for my obvious distaste for younglings.  For no reason at all, they’ll touch every product on a shelf and create a giant mess.  They will pick things up and put them somewhere else, just for the sheer wont of it, and there’s no guidance or correction by the parents, who are probably just glad it’s not their mess to clean up.  It’s just abhorrent to me how parents deal with their children in retail settings.   It’s 9 pm, and you’re going to drag your brood of unholy noise and product touching into my store?  Do you fail to realize that tiny humans don’t have the same sleep schedule as regular sized humans?   Honestly I’d move for some sort of chemical castration in these scenarios to stop people of such obvious ignorance from reproducing.  Unfortunately, they’ve already done so, and I’m left to imagine myself having explosive telekinesis and using it on them.

The point I’m trying to make is a very simple one.  I hate babies.  I’ve had bad experiences with them to the extent that if one isn’t being a little terror, then it’s simply the calm before the storm, and soon the little bugger is going to implode like a black hole of stank, bawling, and loathing and crush me at event horizon.  I’d prefer to just avoid them all-together, but it’s an impossibility to do so, and so I’m left to stare with malice and twitching eyes as one child or another decimates either my patience, my eardrums, or my workspace.


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