When my neighbour put her 2-year-old son in my lap, I followed up with the usual drill of congratulating her. There are some customs you cannot help but live by, like obliging the new parents by appreciating the kid. As I went about doing just that, I felt a hot liquid pouring down my lap and seeping into my jeans.
I fucking got peed on by a kid.
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That’s how, way past the age of wetting my pants, did I end up with a wet patch on my jeans. It was also the day I re-stamped a statement that’s engraved itself into memory just through reiteration- I just cannot stand kids. I don’t find them cute, I don’t find them adorable, and I cannot understand how people do.
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I don’t like kids. There, I said it. I may not feel hostile towards them (sometimes), but I really can’t enjoy in their presence.
They’re just a form of under grown human specimen. And the technology that makes it a small world gets me images of all the babies that my peers are having on my timeline. It does not stop at birthdays and family outings, it’s a documentation of every waking hour. I am guessing, this is what develops the race of people who update a check-in even when they’re attending nature’s call. No kidding, they exist.
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You can never have peaceful conversations in their presence. I don’t certainly enjoy being responsible for someone else’s entertainment, I much rather be on my own.
I recently went for a brief visit to my sister’s place. What I witnessed was her making absolute normal conversation with her husband in decibels that would make people run to her house for help. All this, so she could be heard over the ruckus her toddler creates. I cannot stay in the same room with a crying child. And they are so damn needy. I think it annoys me that they are not self-sufficient.
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Babies leak from everywhere – noses, mouths, bottoms. And they need others to clean up after them. And I refuse to be ‘others’ in this case. No, thank you.
They drip. From everywhere. Their mouth is always dripping with saliva at the corners. And come winters, you’ll find them doing every disgusting thing possible with their snot. It drips down from their nose and conveniently makes its way down south, where it meets the tiny, puckering, open mouth . No prizes for guessing where it goes thereafter.
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Truth be told, yes all of you feel the same way but are too scared to say it. Babies in the theatre are annoying. Period!
Babies throwing tantrums and fits aren’t cute. They’re being assholes and adults need to tell them that. I cannot understand how some people find them and their antics cute, or how they’re not grossed out by running noses and puke. But that’s ok. I don’t judge them for liking babies. But why then do they get to judge me for not liking them?
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If we start talking about travelling with kids, it’s a rant that will never end. Ah, that howling and incessant crying. Don’t we all deserve a peaceful time while on the move?
There’s never a dull moment, in the opposite sense of the word. Had blaring your vocal chords been the way to get things done in the adult world, life would have been a whole lot easier. And even though I understand that travelling with kids isn’t easy, but I too have paid the same amount as the parents for that ride. I deserve better than sleepless, scream-filled nights while on the move and I’m particularly talking about those pre-adolescents who want the world to be the rosy picture they’ve painted. Also, do parents not know that movies cannot hold a toddler’s attention?
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And don’t even get me started on the scatological details of their existence. Am I abnormal if I see them as nothing but a ‘poo-machine’?
Wherever they are, stinks. There’s nothing I run from, as much I do from a child that’s either just woken up or just been fed. The former are extremely prone to taking a luxuriant leak, notwithstanding your lap, elbow or face, even. Once my two-year-old nephew was left unattended on the carpet of the bedroom for barely 5 minutes. My sister came back to poop smeared all over the toys, a sizeable part of the carpet, and on his face.
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So yes, I don’t find them cute, beauty is subjective after all. And from what I gather, these are things that annoy a large part of the human population, then why should I be hated for not finding babies cute? There’s a limit to what a human heart can take. If I see a baby passing by, my initial reaction is never ‘Aww’ or ‘How cute’, that is just who I am. I don’t judge others for liking kids, then why should I be judged for not liking them? I love the fact that I have a life that is ‘child-free’. To each his own, right?