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Zack's Anger Diary: Crunch Crunch Crunch

April 24, 2018

 

Dear Diary …
 
I’ve never really been one of those people that freaks out over the sounds of other people chewing and swallowing or whatever.  Then I had children.  And I am relatively confident that these children are out to destroy me, or at least weaken me mentally to a place where I will give in to their every whim and demand.
 
Like I said … those noises never used to bother me, but my children have figured out a way to do them as LOUDLY as humanly possible.  I don’t know how my son manages to make Cheez-Its sound so loud, but it is [[[CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH]]] and it feels like it is directly inside my soul.
 
I swear that kids edges closer and closer and closer to me on the couch, like he’s trying to eat directly into my ear.  [[[CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH]]]  Ahhh ... stop it!!
 
And my daughter, she’s no better.  I’m just in the living room ... minding my own business … and she sits down RIGHT next to me with a can of soda and starts [[[SIP SIP SIP]]]
 
OK … you’ve GOTTA be doing that one on purpose!  Nobody slurps a soda can that loud without doing it on purpose!!!  And why you gotta be so close to my head???
 
I’m over here trying to concentrate … writing stuff for work … and [[[SIP SIP SIP]]] is driving directly into my skull.  
 
And I know why they do this … because when I’ve finally reached my limit of the torture, I just say “Hey kids … why don’t you go downstairs and play video games all afternoon?” 
 
“Sure thing Dad!”
 
Oh and let me just throw in one additional gripe.  I usually get home from work a little bit before I have to get the kids off the bus.  So when I get home I …. AHHHHHH … finally take a well-earned seat on the couch.  Mmmmm … so nice.
 
But when I go get the kids, my son runs down the street, gets in the house first, and plops down RIGHT in MY spot … right in the middle of the couch.  “I want Goldfish and milk please.”  Oh you think so? And if it ain’t him, it’s one of the dogs.  All you creatures get outta my spot!!!!
 
And even if I manage to shove my son off to the edge of the couch so I can at least sit there too, he’s just over there [[[CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH]]] throwing down Goldfish and dropping a bunch of farts in the process.  Ugh … kids are so gross.  How can they even stand themselves?
 
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

 

 

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