You are not a princess, but you ARE queen of the spoiled rotten brats. Remember when you told that guy in the elevator that his baby wasn't as cute as you were when you were a baby? That's when I decided that I wasn't just annoyed with you on an "I have to deal with you because it's my job" basis. I actually hate you on a basic, visceral human level. I know that you're five and haven't had time to fully grasp the nuances of dealing with other people in a sensitive manner. That doesn't excuse the tantrums you throw because you want every fucking toy in existence, the anxiety disorder you've inflicted on your poor mother, and the sense of entitlement you exude to the extreme all day, every day.
Read the rest here. Got a kid you hate? Since you can't tell them how much they fucking suck to their stupid little faces, at least you have a rant machine into which you can quickly and effectively release all your bile. That's the I, Anonymous Blog: Sterile, barren, and lovin' it since 2011.
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