March 6, 2014
I have cultivated a vast reserve of patience for children over the years. Daily I clean up vomit, feces, urine, and more. I have held my daughter as she screams and thrashes, caught in the throes of her malady. I’ve restrained her for blood draws, injections, and scans. I’ve willingly played manservant, chauffeur, chef, defender, and advocate. I’ve swum in nearly cryogenicly cold water to suit my children’s whims. The list seems endless…but, I learned today that there is one thing that I have no patience for – Barney the Dinosaur.
There is something indefinable about that dopey voice and awful music that makes my calm snap. The very sight or sound of Barney and his saurian cohorts shatters my genetic code, sending a rational man of the twenty first century back to some distant neolithic past. I have a pervasive need to grab a large stick and bludgeon that hulking, can’t do a push-up freak, into an unrecognizable pile of purple and green foam. All the while bellowing a troglodytic litany of such profanity that it would destroy the eardrums of nuns and cause entire flocks of doves to plummet from the sky with blood weeping from their eyes. Adorable unborn baby bunny rabbits would strangle themselves upon their own umbilici at the monstrous invective that would pour from my throat…..
…..Ah fuck it….Which states has marijuana been legalized in again?