It's late. It's 10:32 on a school night. I have a huge presentation tomorrow.
And I'm a lightweight and have had my one cider maximum.
Which is why I have no tolerance for the little 9 year old girl who's currently hopping back and forth and on and off the four seater of my train. Nor do I have tolerance for her parents, who instead of showing a spine, spend the next 25 minutes negotiating with her to come over and sit down properly.
Demon Child: "They know I'm with youuuuu, so I don't nneeeeed to sit with yoooouuuu-uh."
Loud Mom: but you have to bc we have your ticket!!!
LM to Dad: she's going to be like this for another hour. You talk to her.
Dad: cmon honey...do what mom says.
::Bounce on aisle seat::
::Bounce on window seat::
::Eat rat head::
But nothing prepared me for the final straw. Oh, no.
Dad's vinyl "Robin Leech Presents Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" hat.
I'm tired. Which is why I hate you: little 9 year old girl.
...and your Dad's poor sense of modern-day headwear.