Bonding With Co-Workers

Sometimes at your job you find a new friend right away, like my boss, LOVE HER.

And sometimes you bond with a co-worker over the little things… like a mutual hate… of ten year olds.

Settle down, I don’t hate kids, most of them anyway, but I don’t subscribe to the notion that they are all little gems just because they’re kids.  Especially sixty of them in our theater at the same.

You can always tell the kids with older affluent parents. I can think of nothing more annoying than smug ten year olds. It comes from hearing their parents refer to them as “my son” or “my daughter” or “Little Brandon/ Brianna is so smart, cute, talented…” whatever.  Just call them “hey kid” so they will know there place.

I guess these parents think their children are entitled to everything because they worked so hard to bring them into the world. “I was in labor for three days!” they lament. “The fertility shots were worse than rabies shots.”

Well, I say big deal. Once after a weekend of tailgating, I had to have an episiotomy on my brown eye just so I could deliver the morning mail. PS avoid corn and beans in the same meal.

So me and my co-worker are not the cuddly kid types. Bonus: Now I have someone to share my inappropriate cat jokes with.