This however was not always the case.
In case you cannot tell/do not know me, I’m not a particularly bubbly person. I laugh at inappropriate times, I’m awkward around people I don’t like and up until last summer I hated children.
It was a thing. Like, I was Kirsten, that girl who hates kids. It’s been a very difficult thing to break that façade.
Basically what happened is I went to
But one of the ways is that I love kids now. Bratty 10 year olds? They amuse me. New borns? If I could hold a new born baby every day I would be a happy person. Toddlers? I eat them up.
As a result of my new found love for children I have recently taken a Nannying job the cutest 5 and 9 year olds on the planet. The 9 year old is a Ravenclaw, enjoys Phineas and Ferb and taught me how to make friendship bracelets. The 5 year old is a Slytherin, has an obsession with playing the game “hot and cold” and is a perpetual pain in my ass. I love them to death.
“Now Kirsten,” you might be thinking, “Isn’t this blog called Stuff Kirsten Doesn’t Like? I don’t see a whole lot of dislike going on here.”
And I’m getting to that.
Remember that innocence and honesty I mentioned earlier? Yeah…
As much as I love kids, they can be extremely annoying. Don’t get me wrong, I am no longer bitter angry Kirsten who hates the laughter of children, but sometimes…
Today, I prepared lobster pasta for the girls’ lunch. It is exactly what it sounds like. Pasta in the shape of lobsters. It’s awesome. I ate mine with spaghetti sauce (or red sauce as the girls call it. They’re dolls). All was well.
About 20 minutes later I was doing summer homework with the 5 year old when she turns to me and says “You’ve got something red around your mouth.”
Naturally I assume it’s the red sauce from the awesome lobster pasta. I look past the fact that I’m not 3 and don’t spill things on my face when I eat anymore and head to the bathroom to check it out.
IT’S A PIMPLE!
Good God. I hate my life!
It’s a disgusting, not yet ready to be popped pimple placed directly above my mouth. I add proactiv to my must buy list.
I regain my composure and walk back to my charge.
“It’s still there.” She says.
I resist the urge to grip her by the shoulders in a fit of blind rage.
Yeah, I know it’s still there! Of course it’s still there. Where would it go? Since I overslept and rushed to take you to your swim lessons, and had no time to put any effort into my appearance, yes still there.
“It’s ok, it’s just a pimple.” I say, trying to maintain my Marry Poppins façade. “It’s an awful thing that’ll happen to you when you become a teenager too.”
She looks at me, stone cold, and says “Well I’m Indian, we don’t get pimples.”
What on Gods green earth? What am I supposed to say to that? I’m glad you’ll face a life of beauty and perfect skin? Not to mention she’s five, so I can’t really say anything.
Is that true, do Indian people not get acne? That sounds either 100% true or complete and utter BS.
I resist the urge to shout out my favorite antidote for curing my self esteem issues when I remember that I have acne. “Yeah, well I won’t get wrinkly when I’m old. I have perfect aging genes.”
Yeah, that would have gone over nicely with the five year old.
It’s times like these when I revert back to my old nature of hating children.
It’s a pretty well known fact that kids are painfully honest. It’s also a pretty well known fact that kids are awesome liars. This is what I’ve deduced of those two conflicting, but equally true facts. Kids lie like hell when it favors them. When they can get their own way, or free ice cream, they’ll lie, and they lie hard. However, when the truth is embarrassing and awkward to people around them, they seem to lack the ability to say anything but the painful honest facts.
And I forgot why I hated kids to begin with.
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