Why Aren't We Cartoons?

Children are wonderful and amazing. Their bright curious eyes full of wonder about the world around them. Their cheery laughs are the pure personification of joy and innocence. The unconditional love they give you just seems to make everything right. But sometimes, don't you just want to smack them?Now I'm not condoning child abuse, it's one of the most reprehensible things a person can do, but there I times I understand it. In the middle of a giant tantrum full of irrational screaming and crying I don't think I'm the only out there who's been tempted.

Dealing with a child having a tantrum is like dealing with some sort of terrorist group. Their actions seem incredibly extreme and do nothing to further their cause. You know you can't give into them or you'll be totally screwed in the future. And odds are you're going to need some sort of translator because you can't understand a word they're saying.

Few things are quite as frustrating as trying to reason with an irrational little scream machine. The circular arguments, lack of logic, and freak-outs that seem to come out of nowhere would push anyone to the breaking point. To compound matters, as a parent you're only supposed to use diplomatic measures to achieve the desired goal. Timeout is about the most sever weapon in our arsenal. It'd be kind of nice to have another bullet in the chamber. The problem there is if you claim you do by threatening them with corporal punishment eventually they're going to call your bluff and prove that bullet was just a blank.

My solution is there should be a service where you can hire a tiny stuntman to smack around a little. Smack around another "little kid" in their presence and then see how quickly they get in line. "Oh, you think I'm bluffing? Go ask that little bastard if I'm serious. Now put the toy back on the shelf and let's get going." I think that's a market just waiting to be tapped. It's also how I plan to handle dating when my girls become teenagers. I'm going to hire a stuntman to come by so I can beat the crap out of him just as the boy shows up for their date. Fight choreographer, breakaway chair, candy glass window to throw him through; it's going to be awesome. But I digress.

Ultimately, we're left with the knowledge that kids are like some crazy bipolar roller coaster ride. Actually, more like a crazy bipolar roller coaster ride full of monkeys. At least there's some reassurance in the knowledge that as quick they can ruin your day by freaking out and not understanding why they can't wear a sundress outside in winter, they can turn around and brighten it by asking something like "Why aren't we cartoons?" Does raise the larger question, why aren't we cartoons?