A child.
An innocent being.
A cheerful and full-of-energy little person.
A funny little thing.
A child.

A raucous being.
A spoiled and tantrum-throwing little person.
An unnerving little thing.
A bloody child.

The shrieking of a more-than-necessary-loud little girl is piercing my ears. No, it doesn't stop. The maid does her best to calm her down. To no avail. The little girl wants to watch a Mickey Mouse DVD. Clearly she has got something against Winnie the Sh!t and Friends. The maid will not play the DVD fast enough. The little princess throws one of those tantrums that make you wonder if she has gone nuts. Dad tells her to calm down and so does mum. The black rat comes on the telly and quietness has been restored. A few moments later she is thirsty so she asks for some orange juice. Her juice comes and daddy asks her what she is supposed to say to the maid. She keeps silent. Daddy asks one more time. Cat got your tongue? Daddy will not give up. The little child needs to learn to say thank you. Sometimes she does but most of the time she doesn't. Mummy asks her daughter to say thank you. Ten minutes later, a tiny voice says "thank you". Daddy is in class but daddy's little girl does not understand so she keeps interrupting.

A baby on the phone. A crying baby on the phone. Mum is holding the baby and the phone at the same time as if my ears didn't get enough noise. I'm trying to listen to what the lady is saying but the baby's cries drown her voice out entirely. Would it not make more sense to put the baby down for a bit and then come on the phone? Not to this lady who can't even spell her own name. On the bus back home there is a woman sitting behind me. She has, of course, a boy. The boy is what you may call an annoying chatterbox. You want to smash it into pieces to see if it will stop. Not only is he talking his head off but also out of his arse. Why is the name of that bank BCP? What happens to animals when they die? What's that building there? Geez, boy, have you not been taught to keep your mouth shut?

My cousin has a 3-year-old and they happen to be home when I arrive. She's playing with her toys and with her little cousin and then they start to fight. So it's time to say good-night. Both babies cry and I feel like my brain is going to die.

If you have children, I want you to know I have a lot of respect for you. It must take a lot of love and patience to raise one or more. It is time and energy-consuming. It is a job. It is an art. I truly look up to those who can undertake the task. I know I couldn't do it.