People under the age of ten are out to get me, I swear.

First, there are those cool shoes with wheels in them that only come in kids' sizes. Even Charla on the Amazing Race had them. It would be nice to at least have the opportunity to not buy a pair. Or share one pair with a friend who has the same shoe size so I don't injure myself on some two-shoe'd double-wheelie maneuver.

Then, there are some restaurants that only allow kids to purchase kiddie meals. Who needs lobster bisque? Sometimes all you want is a simple grilled cheese sandwich or a hot dog when you've had to deal with freaky people all day. And the toys are nice too.

And when the subway is crowded with people and there's an elbow in your ear and a briefcase getting a little too personal, kids can start wailing and people give them a little space. If I tried doing that they'd call for transit security and whisk me off in handcuffs. Or a straightjacket.

I think it might be that kids remind me of how cool it is to be a kid. They have no idea (I hope, at least) of what mortgages, fibre and bosses from hell are all about.

Sure, they have their problems, but hopefully they live in a home or environment where they are loved and cared for, and maybe their big sister can help them figure out how to get Sally to stop sending them secret admirer notes, since they're not really a secret anymore.

And when parents use their children to torment me, I must applaud them for their creativity. Remember how much I don't love cottage cheese? Check out this post at BeAGoodDad to see how much Mike's son likes it.

You know I have to say this: "He likes it! Hey Mikey!"