kiddos

I would like to begin by lamenting over the word “kiddo”. I hate that word; I hate when people call children kiddos; I hate it as a term of endearment; I hate it. Another thing I hate? Being wrong. Constructive criticism, fine. Redirection, fine. Starting from square one, fine. Being wrong, NO. I know it happens a lot, but being wrong really is the absolute worst to me.

Children on the other hand, ALWAYS THINK THEY’RE RIGHT. And since I do the nanny thing fairly consistently as well as work in an elementary school*, I am fairly consistently being told I’m wrong. It drives me insane. “If you push that button, the volume will go up.” “No it won’t.” “Yes, you just have to point it that way.” “No it won’t.” “Let me show you.” “No! It can’t do that.” …whatever kid! Enjoy not listening to your show about dumb cartoon people that don’t even understand object permanence; NOT! ’cause you can’t hear it.

That’s where it comes from I guess. As a kid, you don’t want to hear “no” so you just tell everyone else “no” and then do what you want, operating under the assumption that everything you are is right anyways. Then you grow up. And struggle with having little kid feelings in a big grown-up world. And eventually decide writing a book about all the ways kids have so injudiciously condemned your opinions might be a lucrative endeavor.

If you were sitting beside me right now, this would be the part where I unexpectedly belt out The Circle of Life Lion King style.

*Sometimes I forget that I write drafts. Then I find them. Then I post them, irrelevant information and all.

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