The Sound

A baby crying is a miserable sound.

Aside from my typically unfeeling nature, in which I only enjoy the children of people to whom I’m close, incessant blubbering from beloved dependents is just plain frustrating because I so often fail to understand the cause of their tears. This results in overwhelming helplessness, as I am forced to abort my mission, and to inevitably abandon my quest to fulfill whatever needs are not being met.

It’s the impossibility of a world without language or socialization.

Where I lament the howling of kids I adore, a wailing stranger baby in public is particularly wretched, for if I, as a paying customer, am sharing space with you, another paying customer who brought a tantruming baby to clog my mind with incessant crying, I have a right to feel some kind of way about the disturbance.

I have a special soft spot for mentally disabled children, as well as for children on the Autistic Spectrum who are frightened by loud noises, but all unaffected others who are in public spaces and disrupting meals are the faults of the adults who don’t know their spawn well enough.

Kids have meltdowns. It happens. When it happens with me, I have the luxury of returning them to their creators, and problem solved. But why is there no exit strategy for children who are experiencing nervous breakdowns at restaurants? They don’t want to be there, and frankly, others don’t want them there if they’re screeching.

The argument can be made that I don’t understand because I don’t have any of my own, but I’m around many parents who exhibit consideration for humanity. For example, when my niece was three, she was one of six at a very adult restaurant. Obviously, this location did not bring her any enjoyment, and as a result, she was defiant, throwing fruit on the ground in protest. Instead of leaving a toddler to endure the misery of a sitting dinner, her father took her outside to play.

In publicly enclosed spaces where the offensive squealing bounces off the walls, children should not be permitted to scream for an extended period of time. It is wrong to allow the bawling to continue and to justify it as kids will be kids, or to suggest, through inaction, that nothing can be done.

A child’s emotions are uncontrollable, but parents who do nothing are categorically the worst.

Furthermore, people who have children and think the world must cater to them are teaching a stupid lesson because life is in no way like that. My grievance is solely with the caregivers, for I empathize with the children. It is terrible to be unable to communicate sadness, pain, discomfort, irritability and indigestion. It is equally admirable, for how freeing to be permitted to release your raw emotions in such a cathartic way.

But ultimately, it is regrettable: a baby screams because he is dependent on another to solve his problems. I was raised an infant, constantly crying, but unheard. I was made dependent and it took consistent effort for me to claw my way to freedom. The liberation and independence came with hard work, and with hard work came money, and with money, I was able to occasionally treat myself to a nice meal at a restaurant. This is why I really hate the crying sound of that freeloading baby.

I’m surprisingly sympathetic on airplanes. Parents should walk up and down the aisles so that no one group of people are affected, but overall, I’m always prepared with headphones, so this is less obtrusive than when I am out at a restaurant and am unceremoniously ambushed with loud sobbing.


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