Six Kid-Related Things That Can Kiss My Cranky Ass

As long as everyone’s bellyaching over the Apple iOS 7 update, I’d like to lodge a few complaints myself. There are certain things I’ve come into contact with since I’ve become a parent that, if human, I would punch hard and square in the nether region. Feel free to add your own. I’ll share mine below:

HONEST KIDS JUICE BOXES: Can you please tell me what kind of sick, sadistic fuck made this juice box? What kind of voodoo do you have to unleash to get the effing straw into that impossibly strong and slippery spot of plastic? Honest Kids? More like MOTHERFUCKINGLIARJUICE. The best part? These Nobel peace prize candidates have a five-part instruction manual for you to open their juice box. Juice box! Have you ever MET a thirsty child before? I’d say no.

honestkids juice boxes

“Insert straw here…if you have your degree in Microphysics!”

SELENA GOMEZ (AND ALL THE OTHER YOUNG, DUMB AUTOTUNED SINGERS OUT THERE): Okay, so I guess there are some humans that I’d like to kick in the nethers, and they are the Selena crowd for somehow making my kids think your music is anything but a terrorist plot to kill us all by massive hemorrhaging through our ears. It’s like a fucking dog whistle but only kids can hear it. One note and my kids are dancing in their seats and, if I try to change the station, I’M THE BAD PERSON HERE. WTF.

LEGOLAND: Again, not a thing, per se, but work with me here, people. This place makes my skin itch. Between the big crowds, long lines, and shitty rides, I’ll take the zoo any day and twice on Tuesday. And who’s the genius behind a kid themed park that doesn’t serve alcohol for the long suffering parents? Hrmph. Flask it is!

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This is me the first time I set foot in Legoland.

SHOES: Yes, all of them. If someone could invent a kid shoe that was easy to put on AND looks good, I will bed you with the force of a meth addicted hooker in need of a fix. Oh, yes, what a prize! The only shoes my kids can wear and get out of the house in under an hour are Crocs, and even a naked Brent Favre (well, especially a naked Brett Favre) can’t pull that shit off.

REMOTE CONTROL CARS: Yes, many of you have gotten these for my boys. Yes, they are super cool for like a millisecond. They usually break within the first five minutes or the remote control goes to the land of forsaken toys along with the rest of ’em. This is before they scuff up every floorboard in our house. Yeah, thanks for that. You know those really annoying trucks that talk and have really blinky lights and that shit goes off in the middle of the night? That’s what I’ll be getting your kid.

FLUSH WIPES: What’s the opposite of flush? CLOG! They should call these fuckers CLOG WIPES! Is it just our old as shit house with its ancient plumbing or do things just not go down? And anyone who has a newly potty trained little guy knows you need A LOT OF WIPES (yes, this is me yelling) to keep the skid-marks at bay. It’s like Little Boy 101.

Are there any kid related things or people you’d like to smash into itty bitty bits? Do share!

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  1. Abba says:

    Seriously. What the hell is up with the honest juice box straw insertion? I thought I was the only honest straw challenged mom. I usually have to resort to scissors. Lame.

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