Five Types of People It’s Legit Okay To Punch In the Throat

Lack of posting sponsored by first week back to work and complete and utter exhaustion. Staying awake past my bedtime is simply ludicrous at this point in my existence.

Going back to work has been tough, but it’s getting a little easier each day. That’s a post for another day.

Today I began to realize that my hatred for the shortage of brain usage in the general population has made a fierce comeback. This is no doubt directly related to the fact that I am back to my unpaid adult babysitting job. I’m pretty sure my three month old makes smarter decisions than the majority of the man-children I work with on a daily basis.

Let’s face the facts: the world is full of people who deserve a swift jab to the throatal region. Being a new mom just seems to emphasize the dumb in others, and I’ve compiled a list of the 6 most throat punch deserving groups of wtf in Momland.

1. The Better Than You Mom. She gets eight uninterrupted hours of sleep a night, shaves her legs on a daily basis, and manages to enjoy a leisurely lunch with a crisp glass of Chardonnay while her wee one coos from a lacy bassinet and never shits up her back. She can’t understand why I didn’t bother to change my pants after my kid barfed on them and perhaps wiped some poo across my thigh. Screw you, better than me mom. You’re doing it wrong.

2. The Oversleeper. This special person comes to work whining about how they ‘really need to stop getting so much sleep’ because it’s making them extra tired. I’ve seen way too much of 3 AM to listen to this drivel without mentally poking her eyes out with my pinky nail.

3. The Advisor. When sentences begin with ‘You should’, you should start running before primal instincts render you negligent of the law. ‘You should put your baby in daycare so her immune system can build itself up’. ‘You should sleep when the baby sleeps’. ‘You shouldn’t let your baby watch TV’. You know what? You should step off, because while my baby is sleeping while parked in front of the boob tube, I’ve been plotting your demise, and it consists of a fiery end and eternity spent with a pitchfork up your ass.

4. The Asshat Who Knows Your Kid Better Than You Do. Maybe this is because moms know their own babies, or maybe it’s because we all try to relate to babies and assume their telltale signs are the same as ours…but I’ll tell you what: I have never, as an adult, shoved my entire fist in my mouth when hungry. And if you see me do this, you’d best move aside and let me pass without incident. Because that shit is serious.

 These people have no problem diagnosing my child’s signals as ‘nothing’. ‘That fist sucking is nothing. She’s just shy’. ‘Yeah, it’s been a while since the last diaper change, but she’s fine. That red face just means she wants me to bounce her harder’. ‘Sleepy? Kids always rub their eyes to bleeding when they need to be stimulated more. She doesn’t need a nap’. I’m not sure a throat punch is good enough here.

5. The Prime Parking Space Hog. This is directly targeted toward every single resident in my apartment building. It’s a small building. We all know each other on some basic level. It’s known by all that my kid has a big mouth and can be heard through the walls. We are the only ones with a small child. 

So when I pull in the lot and discover the one prime parking space(beside a no parking zone)is taken by the lazy ass muscle head on the first floor, I get a little twitchy. It’s the only spot where I don’t have to hold the back passenger door with my knee while I extract the monstrosity of a car seat so as not to dent the neighbor’s precious goods. Not only do I have to heave my ten pound baby and her eight hundred pound car seat, diaper bag, blanket, stuffed animal, my purse, and most likely a half empty Starbucks purchase out of the car and into a space tighter than a Whole Foods aisle, but now I have to shimmy between vehicles and still have the coordination to unlock the front door and stomp up three flights of stairs. Now I’m sweating profusely and leaving baby supply carnage in the stairwell which I’ll have to go back and collect after I take a break at each landing.

All because I didn’t get the good damn parking space.

So the next time you think you know, think again because you probably don’t. Leave the good spaces for people who most likely need it more than you do. Realize who you’re talking to before you say something they’ll want to make you regret. And everyone will have a much nicer day. And all throats will go unharmed.



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