And this is why I HATE other people's kids...
So I'm standing in line at one of the fifty local Starbucks in my neck of the woods and this little fucker walks up to me and punches my dick! WTF?! Obviously knowing I can't punch his mini egg roll back, I nonchalantly and ever so gently, LAUNCH the dick-slugger back a few feet and say "No! Damn-it!" (I think I murmured "little bastard" under my breath as well).
The kid goes crying up to his mother (a craft which every little shit has mastered) who is conveniently at the front of the line ordering her Quad, Venti, Caramel, Macchiato with extra whip cream. She (kid's mom) is herself, a site to behold. She's at least a four hundred pounder with another noodle-striker in training on one hip and a purse you could park a Buick in on the opposite shoulder. I mean seriously, how do her knees not buckle or implode from her obvious love affair with Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby ice cream? OK that's me, but anyhow...
After that thought, I'm thinking in my head that I'm pretty much fucked now and it's too late to make a B-line for the exit door because Jabba the Hutt is going to eat me before I can make a clean escape. As fate would have it however, twinkle toes never did turn around and the little bastard continued to run around pulling merchandise off the shelves and terrorizing other java junkies. I'm guessing this kid would have to have his tiny berries gnawed off by a Norwegian sewer rat before his mommy would even take notice. Meanwhile, her miniature spawn of Satan might as well be pissing in all of our drinks while he's at it.
But wait, there's more!!
Then the little bastard goes over to one of the lounge chairs and starts picking his nose (all the while making sure nobody sees him doing it - but I did). He then proceeds to wipe the piece of his brain on the chair for the next unsuspecting customer to ponder if they're lucky. At this point, I just want to get my goddamn coffee and get the hell out of here before I do something that will make the evening news cast.
So what's the Shameless moral of this story?
Whatever happened to those stupid neon leashes they made for kids anyways? Wait...never mind. That lady would would just have that retractable kind that allows him to go off about fifty yards or more and then leave a steaming poop in my yard.