Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Good question, Honda. What IS this?
This is me wondering why I'm answering a little kid's questions about a car, when it's his parents who are going to decide whether they are going to buy it or not.
This is me wondering why I'm spending all this time babysitting this obnoxious little brat, while the parents don't seem at all interested in the car until the kid goes off to the restroom.
(This is me hoping that the kid never comes back from the restroom.)
This is me wondering why I don't hear either of the parents even once ask this kid to behave like something a little better than a hideously over-indulged little jackass. Or even acknowledge that the prick is being an incredibly rude jerk who desperately needs a lesson in manners.
This is me fantasizing about cracking the skulls of this kid's parents together and shouting "What the Hell is the Matter With You, do you Really Not Notice your kid is being a Total Ass???"
This is me finally resigning myself to the realization that this kid's parents think that their wretched spawn is Oh So Adorable they Need to Share Him With the World. Or they simply can't find a babysitter willing to take him on, at any price. Or they are in constant terror of being wished into the cornfield.
This is me happily saying goodbye to this miserable excuse for a family, determining to change jobs before the first routine maintenance check comes due, and reminding myself to stop by church on the way home to Thank God I've never produced one of these Little Miracles.