Filed under: .stuff. | Tags: bulldozer, castle, cat, children, cry, death, kids, playing, smell, urination
I hate children.
For those of you who know me, that was an accurate statement for many, many years. Before you tell me, “You hateful woman, I hope your cat smothers you to death in your sleep,” let me explain the circumstances for that statement.
I was the youngest child. I never babysat. I never hung around playgrounds or parks. I never had friends that had children. I never liked the looks of children, with their little faces and their dirty hands. I could never tell the difference between a child’s laugh and a child’s cry. I could never tell the difference between a child’s cry and a bulldozer. When I was 14 I was attacked by the likes of a creepy little blonde girl – aged 4– who covered my nose and mouth with her tiny little hands (which make quite a tight seal). A panic attack and sweating fits ensued. No one helped me. I never knew you weren’t supposed to feed children pebbles.
I’m happy to say that, after 26 years, I have transcended the thoughts of my youth. I no longer am in fear of the midget-like humans that run around, enjoying dirt and drawing and running and playing and Dinosaur Train. I relish in the fact that, with a child around, I can act like one (minus the urinating on myself… as of yesterday).
Four days ago I made an awesome diorama–fort–3D–castle–map type thing with a child. I had a blast.
I am Allison Mason, and I no longer hate children.