Tattoos in Mayberry

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Children, what good are they?
They pay according to their age or weight 
or eat free at restaurants.
I don't get those options
why should they?
Children are allowed to ride
the bus or commuter train for free.
Usually, children don't work for a living
so they hardly ever pick up the check.
Kids don't come at you one at a time.
Instead, they blitz you in bunches,
invading our common spaces like storm troopers
hoards of them, in fun packs of 30
chatting endlessly about all that is interesting
only to them.
When a child loses a tooth, another one magically
grows back in its place.
They don't have to worry,
since they have a spare set.
I, on the other hand,
must lay out hard cash
when I chip or break a tooth chewing on a 
jaw breaker
or peanut brittle.
Speaking of candy,
children have co-opted Halloween.
A sacred and ancient tradition
originating with the Druids
to honor their dead
who've departed into the spirit world.
Children haven't earned a holiday in their honor
so they've stolen one.
Children get away with being disruptive
screeching and howling like monkeys.
At least, monkeys live in trees.
To make matters worse, children smell like stale candy
and barbecue sauce, their scent trail barely tolerable.
I especially loathe those special children
sporting Nike Air Jordan shoes

or sporting designer Hathaway button down shirts.
Furthermore, nothing is as tragic
as a four year old in a three piece suit.
'Smile for the camera Skippy,'
I can scarcely imagine the abject humiliation following
these kids down the road.
Stop dressing your kids for success.
Stop dressing them up as adults.
Because, its a lie, and everyone knows it.
Is it any wonder these
same children get picked on
by their peers.
Children haven't yet achieved anything except being born
and annoying strangers.
They should  be issued standard fare.
Keds, simple one color tee shirts, pullovers, corderoys or jeans.
Children ramble on about nothing in
desperate hope someone will notice
how wise they are beyond their years.
But, they aren't wise.
They are crumb crunching novices.
Ridiculous, little tragedians,
who haven't yet had their hearts broken,
driven a car,
paid rent,
balanced a check book,
or lost a job.
I've heard it said,
children should be seen but not heard.
But, I don't even want to see children.
Let them congregate away from the rest of us on barges.
A place apart where they can freely act out and 
giggle mindlessly to their hearts content.
The real world is harsh 
Life can be cruel,
unsavory, unforgiving, even grotesque.
As adults, we shouldn't have to adjust our behavior 
to a child's fragile sensorium. 
If anything, shouldn't it be the other way around.
So, when  I see some perky twenty something 
walking toward me, smiling and waving
instructing me to save the children,
I ask them, why would I care to do that?
I hate children.
When kids have some real world experience 
and have graduated, through the grit of living,
cutting their teeth employing selfless and significant
community action, 
beneficial to their
greater community,
then, more serious consideration can be given
to allowing them permanent resident status  
among the rest of us.

 Buddy Bee Anthony

comedic prose.
 





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