Monday, August 18, 2008

I am not opposed to infanticide

Yes, I am not opposed to infanticide. That means “killing infants,” specifically four-year-olds. OK, that’s not true. But I am in support of physical punishment. That means “beatings”. OK, that’s not true either.

I don’t even believe in spanking children, but all that almost changed one fateful morning. I was visiting my family and I woke up and went to put my contact lenses in, only to find that my contact case was open and my contacts were missing. I checked my eyes to see if I had forgotten to take them out the night before. I hadn’t. Maybe I had misplaced them as I stumbled in from a night of debauchery? No, I try not to be under the influence of any kind of substance other than ice cream, so unless it was some particularly strong Chunky Monkey, not likely. Did someone else mistakenly put my contacts into their own eyes, thinking they were theirs, a disgusting but innocent mistake? No one else wears contacts in the family, so that was out.

Then I thought of Raquel.

As I’ve mentioned before, my parents are masochists and had eight children. Raquel is the youngest and is four years old. She also has a reputation for being a kleptomaniac, and she had seen me putting my contacts in the other day and asked me what I was doing, so that made her my prime suspect.

I showed her the case and asked “Did you play with this?” She looked at the floor and just shrugged. Without my contacts I couldn't see her facial expression, but she was acting suspicious.

“How can you not know?” I asked incredulously. “Seriously, did you play with this or not?”

“No,” she said, still looking at the floor.

So not only had she effectively blinded me, now she was lying about it.

With a little more interrogation she came clean and together we tried to find my contacts. We crawled all over the floor looking, but found nothing. Raquel couldn’t remember what she had done with the contacts, or at least that’s what she said. I’m thinking she might’ve flushed them, so now I am doomed to bump into stuff and squint until I get some more contacts when I return to school.

I complained to my mom but she was unsympathetic.

“Oh that’s nothing. She has so much stuff that belongs to me, I don’t even keep track anymore. She steals from everybody.”

She didn't even care! Completely unconcerned. I guess having eight kids and dealing with their ridiculous behavior makes a person insane.

And the next day Raquel got into my laptop and somehow e-mailed all my friends a message that said “dkadpaooifihaofoiahhdpqopdihhaspsdpodoihhewwq.” Fantastic.

I went and got a vasectomy immediately. OK, that’s not true, but I sure thought about it.