Everyone in Hollywood seems to be popping out babies left and right, and whenever asked about their offspring they usually reply with something along the lines of, "This is my purpose, my calling. Everything I do is for my kids and I love it. It's the greatest experience. Blah blah blah." Maybe it's because I've never had kids so I couldn't understand, but based on my careful observance at the grocery store, having children seems to be more of an expensive, sticky burden than a blessing. I know, I know, kids are great and wonderful and joyous and all that crap but I think they're becoming a bit overrated.

Most children are not cute. It's a common misconception that children are bright-eyed and beautiful but I beg to differ. Babies are just downright ugly; they look like tiny squirming aliens yearning to be free from the confines of car seats and strollers. I've noticed that many children have unusually big heads which makes them appear as if they will topple over any second. By the time they've reached me, the cashier, they've usually consumed a donut or some form of refined sugar, leaving a noticeable frosting/chocolate/powder mustache above their upper lip which most parents find too adorable to dab away. Isn't it the most precious thing when children eat like slobs and get their food all over their face, hands and clothes? And isn't it even more precious when they drool on every imaginable surface? I often cringe when I see messy children. I have to suppress the urge to jump over the conveyor belt and spray them down with a hose.

Kids have annoying voices. The high pitched tone of a toddler assaults my eardrums enough as it is, and god forbid that toddler should start to cry, it's like asking someone to drill a hole inside your ear. Children usually cry because they can't get what they want, and this is because they are selfish little bloodsuckers who think they are entitled to Hershey bars and waterguns. A few days ago, a rather attractive woman came on my line with four children all under the age of ten. You could tell this woman won best looking in high school or something like that, then got knocked up by some dark-haired rebel who told her he'd love her forever. This woman looked as though someone in her family had just died, but I'm pretty sure she was just miserable because her kids were wailing little brats. The youngest one, a boy, was by far the worst offender. In his shrill pre-school voice he'd yell, "Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!" over and over again until the mother finally looked in his direction. He ran around all over the place, grabbing candy bars and demanding to have them. The mother just ignored him, and with good reason. Then he spotted the vending machines and started barking, "Gimme a quarter! Gimme a quarter! GIMME A QUARTER! I NEED A QUARTER!" Finally the eldest sister told him to ask nicely, which he did, and was still shot down by the miserable mother. I pitied her. She looked young and like she once had life, but now all of that was sucked out by the four leeches before me. I could have sworn I almost spotted a tear in the corner of her eye as she lamented the loss of her freedom.

Every so often there is a child so vulgar and beastlike that a strange sort of silence falls over the store as people turn to look at the offending little serpent. Such a child came onto the express line with his father and younger brother, and as his poor father was paying, the child decided he wanted a toy. Dad said no, and that was it. The kid went absolutely nuts. If you looked closely you probably could have seen the kid's eyes glow red, because he and Satan were congruent in every way. He started screaming. No, wait. Screaming doesn't do it justice. He started moving mountains with his voice. Yes, there we go. He waged a larynx war on everyone around him. He was so rabid that he couldn't even form a complete sentence; he just kept repeating "Toy! Toy! Dad, toy! Toy!" over and over again. He grabbed on to his dad's leg, he pounded his hooves on the floor, he even started pushing the shopping cart where his little brother was sitting back and forth. People started looking at him, but of course this did nothing to deter the mongrel on register 4. He kept at it, a full five minutes of
cochlear assault until the poor man dragged his demon child away.

I could go on and on with stories of horrific children, like the one who shrieked nonstop for twenty of my thirty minute break or the one whose mother did nothing after he set off the fire alarm, but I think I've made myself clear. To be fair, I have seen some attractive, well-behaved children, but this is an ever-shrinking minority. And I'm sure the good outweighs the bad when it comes to children, or at least I'd like to think so, because then I'm really never having kids. Whenever I say I don't want children people usually tell me that I'll change my mind and wind up having ten of them. Let me just say that if I ever pop a kid out of me, that kid is going to be the most well-mannered,perfectly behaved ankle biter this planet has ever seen.