I hate your kids.

God help us: the Holiday season begins again.

Because I spend so much of my time on airplanes, winging around the country, I try to drive to my holiday destinations. This year, Z. and I will be motoring back to Ohio. While our route won't take us past The Butter Jesus, I'm sure we'll share a warm glass of laughter anyway.

What was I talking about? Oh, right. I hate your fucking kids. That’s why I don't fly for the holidays -- too many fucking brats running around the plane, kicking my seat, flipping their trays to a locked/unlocked/locked/unlocked position. Kids. Ugh.

Last week as I was surfing parents.com, I saw an article about how parents can mitigate the evil of their children on airplanes. I thought "this will be good." It wasn't. Mostly because the author misses the point: kids suck my ass. And because that is a fact, proven by SCIENCE, nothing she can write could suitably answer the question posed in the beginning of the article: "How should I deal with airplane seatmates who might get annoyed by my little first-time flyer?"

Um, allow them to strike said child until it is rendered dead or unconscious -- thus doing society a service. But, alas, we get a series of "if you made the mistake of bringing your child onto an airplane here is how to make it slightly less egregious." Enjoy my obvious fucking comments in [BRACKETS].

1. Do apologize in advance to all passengers in a five-foot radius of your seat for whatever spills, fits, kicks, and other random problems your child will probably cause -- that way, no one will be surprised when the apple juice and pretzels start flying. [Oh hell no. Some pre-emptive apology is not going to work if "apple juice and pretzels" are involved. You better be handing me a fucking blackjack and saying "if you feel the need, use this -- I use it in place of naps some days."]

2. Don't bring more than one book or magazine for yourself -- you'll be too busy running interference and reciting "Goodnight Moon" to read something for your own pleasure. [If I hear you reading "Goodnight Moon" I will end you. Seriously, don't bring that shit onto my airplane.]

3. Do bring snacks -- enough for everyone sitting around you. Who could get mad at the child of a mom who doles out Hershey's Kisses? [That depends. Are you a hot mom? What has your child done to me already? Chances are you're a fat slob from Iowa with a sniveling freak-show child. You try to hand me a candy and I'll slap your hand, engaging in a stare-off until you look away -- chastened and embarrassed.]

4. Don't pretend that you didn't see your child give the guy in the suit a noogie. It happened. Suit guy is probably ticked off. Ignoring your child's bad behavior will make suit guy even madder. [Oh, hey, suit guy here. Yeah. If your child touches my hair, you won't have a chance to ignore that it happened. Your child will be out the emergency hatch and descending to 10,000 feet before you can get your breastfeeding tit back into its Playtex corral and do something about it.]

5. Do tell your child to stop kicking (and peeking over and crawling under) the seat -- and say it loudly enough so that the kickee hears you. That way, he'll know you noticed your child's behavior and are making some effort to stop it. [Ha. What? Oh I NOTICED. And that's why your child now occupies the overhead bin ten rows away.]

6. Don't stress yourself out over the bad stuff. Bad stuff happens. But you know what? Everyone gets over it. [No, we don't. The bad stuff just fuels the hatred. Hatred that makes me want to “spill” piping-hot coffee all over your child's FACE. Because you know what? BAD STUFF HAPPENS. I'm sure your kid will understand.]

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Remember when a plane ticket was $1500 and you had to wear a blazer to fit in?
Yeah. *sigh* Me too.