Kids these days

Whatever the age of the masses of children were that filled the museum halls today it’s precisely the age of kids I hate.

I would place them around the 11-14 range, purposefully snotty towards each other, snotty towards adults, behaving much younger than they are but somehow have themselves convinced that they are more mature, running around uncontrollably and screaming followed by the exasperated chaperone parents, barging into work areas clearly marked, “Authorized personnel only,” proclaiming loudly, “Is this the gift shop?” and running away stupidly gafawing.

I can’t believe the little girls who have barely started to develop dressing like whores and looking very uncomfortable. Especially when the sleazy janitorial staff wander past them, the same janitorial staff that seems to have monthly sexual harassment complaints from regular staff.

It is another reason to home school: I do not want my child to pick up nasty habits from poorly socialized brats.

I was called Ma’am today. I do not look like a Ma’am, I am far too young to be a, “Ma’am, do you work here?” No, I am an, “Excuse me Miss!”

I much prefer the ‘no big kids allowed’ days, where all the children are shy, well behaved, polite, ask cute questions and are under the age of five. They call me Miss.