1. I hate texting. My husband got me one of those fancy little phones with the full QWERTY keyboard so I wouldn’t have an excuse for not answering his text messages. It definitely makes things easier, but I still hate it. I refuse to carry a full blown conversation via text. If I am so unimportant that you can’t pick up the phone to call me, then I can’t be bothered with what you might have to say. My mother in law sent me a text message recently, telling me about the latest tom foolery of Basketball Wives. I pretended that I never received the message, all while silently cursing the person who introduced her to the technology.
2. I hate the strings on bananas. I hardly ever eat a banana because it can be a pain to meticulously peel off every single string. Not only is the texture gross, but the strings don’t even taste like banana. They don’t taste like anything at all. That is how I can tell when I have missed a string. My banana has to be in the form of a smoothie, or some form of bread.
3. I hate chicken drumsticks. I love the flavor of dark meat, but I can’t get past that nasty little rubbery piece that hangs off of the side. I am not familiar with the anatomy of a chicken, but I am assuming it would be the equivalent of an Achilles tendon in humans. And one whole side of the drumstick is covered in some sort of membrane that renders that portion completely inedible, unless you pull the chicken away from the membrane. I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t want to dissect my food before I can eat it. Give me a boneless, skinless chicken breast any day. When I was little, I remember the day I saw my dad place an entire drumstick between two slices of bread and eat it like a sandwich. It was one of the most disturbing things I ever witnessed, knowing that there was no way for him to see the tendon prior to biting into it. Then, I realized that he didn’t care about the tendon. He ate all around the bone and chewed like it was the most flavorful piece of meat he ever had. And when that was over, he chewed the gristle. That little piece of hyaline cartilage at the end of the bone is meant to be discarded along with the Achilles’ tendon, yet he chewed away. The sound was equivalent to nails on a chalkboard, and I lost my appetite immediately. I pushed my potato salad over to the side of the plate and cringed at the horrific sound. Since then, I always made sure to hurry and finish my meal before my dad could get started on eating the gross parts.
4. I hate frying chicken. I don’t mind the taste of it, but I can’t stand the way the smell wafts through the house, settling into the fibers of every piece of clothing we own. After breathing in the aroma for a few hours, I become desensitized to it. My clothing however, does not. Nothing says fatso like coming to work reeking of fried chicken.
5. I hate silent letters. I have tried and tried, but I can’t understand the purpose behind them. Do they make the word look prettier? I probably wouldn’t mind so much if all the letters on my keyboard functioned properly but when I have to go through a copy and paste-a-thon in order to send an email, it is easy to get frustrated over the fact that fight can’t just be spelled as “fite”. It would eliminate a lot of tedious google searching for me. And don’t get me started on the whole silent “p” in psychology. Or the “h” in the middle, for that matter. Absurd, I tell you.
6. I hate people who don’t pay attention at the stop light. I have things to do and places to go, and not enough hours in the day for all of it. Sometimes, I am trapped in the car with four children who won’t stop hitting each other, or yelling, or kicking the back of my seat. So when I get stuck behind someone who can’t see that the light changed from red to green because they were too busy checking their Twitter feed, I get a little pissed off. Yes, I would be that person behind you, laying on the horn. For crying out loud, put the friggin phone down and drive.
7. I hate teacher conferences. Asking me to take time off to work in order to discuss things that could have been said on the telephone or an email irritates me. Unless my kid is causing problems in class or struggling, stop requiring me to come in to see you four times a year, especially considering that there are no adult-sized chairs for me to sit on once I get there. Listening to you read a copy of the very same report card that I got in the mail while sitting in a seat meant for toddlers is a good way to create a bad relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate teachers. I really do. But please don’t have me burn a vacation day just so you can tell me that my kid is doing well and you hope they keep up the good work. I don’t have time for that. Especially not while my chin is resting on my knees as I sit in those little stupid chairs.
8. Building on number seven, I hate all the paperwork that kids come home with during the first week of school. It is the same paper work I filled out last year, and none of my contact information has changed. Why am I filling out 4 different emergency contact forms for each child? Can’t you just photocopy one and pass it around to whoever needs it? After all, I did purchase the copy paper that was on the supply list for the year. Take advantage of that and make some copies, for crying out loud.
9. And I hate school supply lists. I get why some of the stuff that is on there, but why do I need to send in 3 packs of crayons instead of one? And six glue sticks? Between my twins, twelve glue sticks went to school last year. And I didn’t see enough projects to warrant it. Not only that, but I got an email halfway through asking for even more glue sticks because the classroom was running low. The $20 donation that was requested for additional supplies should have covered that, but apparently it wasn’t enough. Highway robbery, if you ask me. And don’t dare ask me again for a Swiffer duster. I don’t even have one of those in my house. But I would be happy to send a rag in each child’s book bag, which would serve the same purpose for a lot less money. And If school budgets continue to get slashed, I am sure toilet tissue and supplies for the janitor’s closet will eventually start showing up on the list.
10. I hate companies who send jobs overseas. I am willing to bet that if we could keep those thousands of jobs in this country, our economy would be in much better shape than it is now. I am not saying that it would be the ultimate fix, but it sure as hell would help a lot of unemployment numbers were lower. I just read that Ford plans to open a plant in India, creating 5000 jobs. In India. Not here. I may not know everything there is to know about economics, but I am failing to see how opening a new plant outside of this country can be of any benefit to this country. I’d like to see companies who send jobs out of the country hit with tax penalties. Of course, those penalties would end up just getting passed off to the consumer, while the executives sitting on top continue lining their pockets by taking advantage of the citizens of other countries who are willing to accept slave ages for hard work.. So much for buying American. And don’t give me the hogwash about serving the Asian markets. No one drives Fords but Americans. We happen to be the only ones senseless enough to do so.
So that concludes this week’s list of stuff that I hate. It sure does sound like an angry post, now that I look back on it.