A Note to A Future Serial Murderer

Dear Five-Year-Old at the Park With the Constantly Runny Nose and Oafish Head Who Stalks My Daughters:

I'm pretty sure this is how Ted Bundy started out. Your yearning to torture domesticated animals will probably begin in a few years at which point your mother will find cat corpses strewn about the yard and suspect a wild fox lurks in your bushes. But, no, it will be you.

I honestly didn't know I had it in me to dislike a child so much. For whatever reason, you are fascinated with my daughters and, well, who can blame you? The best thing I can say about you at this point is you have good taste in the opposite sex.

You know how whenever you infringe on their personal space they scream bloody murder? This is not a compliment. This is toddler speak for "F@#$ off." Please do so. I realize my venom should be reserved for your mother, who seems to be overly preoccupied with texting someone (your father? her boyfriend? the plastic surgeon who gave her the worse boob job I've ever seen?) and her nails, which she stares at in a way that makes me wonder if she's been lobotomized.

I understand you start kindergarten in a few weeks. This both pleases me as we will see you less frequently and terrifies me on behalf of whatever sweet woman (are there any male kindergarten teaches besides Arnold in Kindergarten Cop?) finds your name on her attendance sheet. The good news for me and my family, however, is you won't be sniffing at my girls and I won't have to have the following conversation EVERY TIME I SEE YOU (do you have early onset of dementia?):

You: Are they twins?

Me: Yes.

You: (real antagonistically) Then why aren't they dressed alike?

Me: Because that's stupid.

You: All twins I know dress alike.

Me: (ignore and try to walk to other end of park but am followed)

You: Why is that one fatter?

Me: She eats more.

You: Why?

Me: Because.

You: Because why?

Me: Please leave us alone.

You: Why?

Me: Dear, God, make it stop. PLEASE. I will stop (fill in something I have no intention of stopping) if you make him go away.

Then, as my pleas with the Creator are ignored, we have to leave and go to another park because he continues to follow us and pepper me with questions and upset the girls by trying to grab them. I hate that kid. And his mother. And possibly his father who presumably sanctions his wife walking around in a tank top braless.