instagram post: *video of a woman gently encouraging a hesitant child to go down a slide*
the first comment: this woman is violently pressuring her child to do something that they are clearly terrified to do, children should NEVER have to do anything they don’t want to do, this kid is being abused and will grow up to hate their mother i hope someone calls cps on her
the second comment: kids are so thin skinned these days if it were my kid i would push it down the slide and laugh at it if it cried. this is the only way we will win the culture war
the third comment: she should have used a condom. this would make a great condom ad. no one cares that someone came in you. kids are not human. i hate kids so much.
the fourth comment: DM ME “”“HELP”“” 🤝💪😤 I AM PAYING OFF DEBT OF FIRST 5 🎉 TO DM 💯💯💵💵 DON’T MISS THIS OPPORTUNITY 😍
things the kittens have so far yelled at me about with the righteous indignation of child monarchs:
- i could not find my brother for 1.3 seconds - my brother bit my ears when i pounced on him - my brother refused to bite my ears even though I pounced on him - my brother has carried away the little mouse toy but I wanted to carry away the little mouse toy - want to lie in lap but no room - want to lie in lap but am on floor - want to lie in lap but it is too warm in lap - too small to jump on table - too large to get behind washing machine as is my sacred right - i am being prevented from drinking the coffee, a substance which would do me grievous harm - you are not letting me lick the inside of your nostrils - i am too small to headbutt you with enough force to adequately represent my affection
See, the first time I grew parsnips, I fucked it up good. I hadn’t seen parsnips sprouting before, right, and in my eagerness I was keeping a close eye on the row. And every time I saw some intruding grass coming up, I twitched it right out, and went back to anticipating the germination of my parsnips.
But it turns out parsnips take a bit longer than anything else I’d ever grown to distinguish themselves visually. It’s just the two little split leaves, almost identical to a newly seeded bit of kentucky bluegrass when they first come up, and they take a good bit to establish themselves and spread out flat before the main stem with its first distinctive scallopy leaf gets going.
I didn’t get any parsnips, not that year, because I’d weeded them all out as soon as they showed their faces, with my ‘ugh no that’s grass’ twitchy horticulture finger.
The next year, having in retrospect come to suspect what had happened, I left the row alone and didn’t weed anything until all the sprouts coming up had all had a bit to set in and show their colors, and I’ve grown lots of parsnips since. They’re kind of a slow crop, not a huge return, but I like them and watching them grow and digging them up, and their papery little seeds in the second year, if you don’t harvest one either on purpose or because you misjudged the frost, so it’s worth it.
Anyway, whenever I see someone stuck and struggling with their writing who’s gotten into that frustration loop of typing a few words, rejecting them, backspacing, and starting again, I find myself thinking, you gotta stop weeding your parsnips, man.
