k i m ' s i n f e r n o
               Forget burning for all eternity in a lake of fire-- I believe that true eternal damnation can only be reached by being constantly surrounded by kids under the age of 15. I have tried, but I cannot think of a worse punishment. (Mowing lawns in the blazing hot sun for all eternity is close though.)  Some people may ask, "Kim, you were a kid once too," but to that I say that I'm not a kid anymore so screw all y'all.
              Before I moved in to the "prime real-estate of room 420" (according to Tim), I was beginning to get incredibly desperate to move out of my house. The only reason I wanted to was because the whole week before moving in was spent babysitting our neighbor kids (aged 3 and 4) from 7 IN THE MORNING to 4pm. I don't know why I even agreed to this, because babies suck. The first day was hell. I walk into the house, and the first thing the kids even said to me was,? "Dylan wet the bed." Yes, it was true. The first 30 minutes of a week-long babysitting job was spent cleaning up a pee-soaked sleeping bag. I knew that I was doomed from that point on.
            The next day was even better. The little 3-year-old boy kept running out the front door while I was trying to watch the other kid -slash- watch the Lizzie McGuire Movie. I had to keep getting up to retrieve him. I try to lock the door, but NO, he knows how to unlock it. What kind of parents teach a 3-year old how to unlock a door? What keeps him from running outside in the dead of night? This is insanity. I told Dylan that he needed to stay in the family room with Summer, and he started crying. Why do kids always need to cry? The only time they should need to cry is when they get beaten up by other kids or me. I'll give 'em a reason to cry. In order to distract him, I asked if he wanted some orange juice. He said he did, but he wanted it warmed up. Warmed up?!? I draw the line at microwaving orange juice. Actually, I did it anyway, because I am easily bossed around by 3-year olds. ?After I made sure the orange juice had reached boiling point, I took it out and gave it to Dylan. He thanked me by spilling it all over the carpet in the living room. Oh boy. Then Summer attempts to clean it up by using a pillow from the couch to absorb the mess. Why are kids so retarded? I think a couple of years as a slave would do them a lot of good.
    
              ...Which brings me to my next point.
    
            All children should be slaves. They should be forced to work and do manual labor in dangerous factories until they are unable to walk because of a bad back. Only then, would I like kids.

By Kim
4 November 2004
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