Things I hate

I'm going to go all Andy Rooney on you. So turn back now if you can't handle it.

Why? Why must I have to squeeze out a few drops of pee every time I sneeze? Yes, I have three children and I've heard all about the bladder incontinence that comes with squeezing things the size of a small watermelon out of an opening the size of a walnut. But, guess what? I had three c-sections. I should have been awarded a "Congratulations! Not only did you get to skip having an episiotomy, but you won't pee when you laugh or sneeze!" I didn't get one of those.

Something else that really chaps my ass .... maybe literally now that I think about it ... is that the house can be quiet, children are contentedly doing homework, having a snack, playing with the Hot Wheels track, whatever ... so I figure now is as good of a time as any to go to the bathroom. About mid-way through a poop - someone is either bleeding or the house is on fire. I heard the blood-curdling screams. Surely, I'm right. A quick wipe and I bolt out the door as I'm pulling up my pants and there is no smoke, no pool of blood - only kids playing tug-of-war over a DVD or Xbox controller.

Ever try to call someone somewhere and get the automated telephone operator system? If you're a member, please dial 1. If you're a physician, please dial 2. Please input your member identification number. *hitting all the numbers and the pound sign* I'm sorry, that was an invalid entry. *carefully watching my clumsy fingers to make sure I'm doing it right* I'm sorry, that was an invalid entry. Please try your call again when you aren't a flipping dumbass. Ok, it didn't say that, but it might as well have. So, I call back. This time I get one of those 'we accept voice commands' things. So, I say let me talk to a person. I'm sorry, we did not understand your request. So, between hitting the zero button 4,000 times and asking for a person, it finally says "I'm sorry, I can't understand your request. Please hold while I get an attendant." Well, thank God you finally got it. So, then the damn person asks for my ID number again. Gees, people. I always ask them why I have to input it if they're just going to ask for it anyway. They never give me a good answer or even the same answer. They're making shit up as they go along because they have no idea either and they're probably tired of irate people like me asking them that. I hate those things. Just give me a person. Or better yet, a telemarketer named "Megan Clark" who sounds like she is calling from a call center in Pakistan or India. Those make me laugh. Yeah, her name is Megan.

I hate women who don't make their kids act right at the store. I went to Barnes and Noble the other day and I heard this child screaming from the children's section on the other side of the store as I was walking in. Then, the excuse for a mother comes up to the check-out stand and this child - probably about 3 or 4 - is hitting and pushing her. My mouth dropped open because all I could think was that my kids would be deadmeat for pulling something like that on me. She simply turns around and says "You need to stop if you want to go to story time." Guess what? Do you think he stopped? You'd be right, he didn't. About this time, my friend walks in. She had dropped me off so I wouldn't have to walk very far being all crippled up these days. I look at her and say, I"m sorry, but we have to get far away from this area. She asks me why and I said because that kid needs his ass whooped and if she doesn't do it, I'm going to do it for her! A lady walking out the door stuck her head between and said You aren't kidding! It was a spectacle and everyone in the store wanted to throttle this lady for not making the kid act right. I blame the mom more than the kid. If it is nap time, take the kid home. If he isn't feeling well, don't drag him to the bookstore. If he is just a little bastard, well, discipline him in your own fashion. No child should be allowed to hit his parent at any age. It is only going to get worse.

I also hate slow people who drive in the fast lane, the kids asking me over and over what we're having for dinner and then telling me that they don't want to eat that.

*taking deep breaths*

I have a headache. I have two baskets of clean laundry to put away. I have about two or three loads of dirty laundry to wash. I have a dishwasher full of dishes to put up and dinner to cook and I have a meeting tonight at 7 p.m. at the airport.

Calgon take me away!