Children Hate Me

I've never had much luck with kids.  They just don't like me, I don't know what it is.  Take today for example.  I was working up in Nickelodeon Universe for awhile this afternoon.  A lady was filling out an application with a child and I thought I could entertain the child for the time.  At a loss for what to say to a child, I picked an abundant topic at the Mall of America.

"Do you like Nickelodeon?" I ask, a valid question for a 3 or 4 year old.

"It's too noisy here. I hate this place," she responds, turning away.

Well, so much for conversation.  A little while later, my co-worker, Harry, just looked at the kid and she smiled.  Some people have all the luck.  Like my brother.  I don't know what's so special about him that kids like him so much.  It must be that since he's so tall, kids think he's a playground.

In general, the feelings I have with kids are mutual.  They don't like me, and I don't like them.  But every once in awhile, I warm up a bit.  Then things like today happen and reaffirm my feelings.  I'm glad to live in a child free zone.

I wish I had a dog.