I have never been accused of being great around kids, although to be fair I am rarely given the chance just on the assumption that I will be absolutely outrageous. I don’t fault my family and friends for thinking this–I have certainly proved myself to be outright inappropriate in almost every other situation, why would being around small children be any different?
Come to think of it, there is some pretty damaging evidence against me on this front. I have yelled at small children in restaurants before, once an infant. I guess I was really yelling at the kid’s parents, but I would hope that something I said would resonate with the little one, like “bullshit” or “shut the fuck up.” My young nephews use this kind of language and there is a good-to-almost-certain chance that I had something (or everything) to do with that. This might also explain why I’m never invited over anymore. It would have been fun to carve pumpkins and try on Halloween costumes with the younger members of my family, but as you can see from last weekend’s pumpkin-carving experience even that isn’t a safe activity when I’m around.
But let’s be real, with spoiled kids there is a good chance nothing will be fun, and anyway we all know what Halloween costume I and my two friends would have shown up to the family party wearing.
One of these days I’ll grow up, assuming I’m not suffering from an intellectually stunting mental disorder, about which I wonder sometimes, but frankly, an online blog is not the place to start, so here’s to 2014 for that. I’ll plan my transition to real-world adulthood for a year from now, so on Halloween 2013 be on the lookout for my steeped-in-depression-single-mother-of-two costume.