The hotel party was fun, albeit a little crazy. The kids went totally nuts in the pool and were hyperhyperhyper.

My girlfriend brought her two boys. Initially, I was happy about this, because hey, the more the merrier, and also I would have another mom along for supervisory purposes.

She TOTALLY bailed on me.

At ten o’clock or so, when I was trying desperately to get the kids to wind down so that sleep might be a vague possibility, she came up to me and said, “Hey, I’m going to go out to the bar. You wanna come?”

As if I would leave four eleven-year-olds in a fucking hotel room alone.

So, I went.

Kidding.

She left, and she didn’t come back until ten the next morning to pick up her bad-ass kids, who spent the entire night whipping things at each other’s faces while I pulled a pillow over my head and groaned.

Needless to say, I was a little bent.

I didn’t say anything, however, because my insano over-niceness kicked in and all I could do was shoot a sarcastic, “Welcome back” her way before totally glossing over the whole thing.

Other people’s kids generally annoy the shit out of me, especially when I’m NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING THEM.

Anyway, I’m now sitting outside by the pool watching my son and his terribly annoying little friend frolic in the freezing water.

I have a not-totally-irrational prejudice against this child. For one thing, he smells funny, the kind of funny you smell after not bathing for a REALLY long time, or maybe after rolling in fungus.

For another thing, his voice is more annoying to me than Ann Coulter is on her very worst day. His voice is so fucking annoying that I want to rip my own ears off and insert them into my behind. It sounds like a cheese grater on a chalkboard, no shit.

Plus, he’s just kind of… slow.

Now I don’t have a problem with slow children in general, because I understand that they honestly can’t help it, but for some reason this raspy little bastard seems to tap-dance on my very last nerve.

I’m not totally deluded. I know for a solid fact that my own child can be annoying with the best of them. He’s incredibly stubborn, occasionally pesky, and too much like me NOT to be annoying. However, he doesn’t even begin to approach the level of this kid’s annoy-icity.

GAH.

I’m trying like hell to be patient, but part of me is afraid that someone will find him buried alive in my back garden.

For now I’m just sucking down Diet Cokes and over-Twittering, trying to tune out the fine melodic sound of his voice.

Happy Wednesday.

Warbirds buy

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