Yes, I drop-kicked that toddler on Escondido. But it was for a good reason!
By now you’ve probably heard the news that I, a grown woman, allegedly “battered” a small child near the Escondido turnaround late afternoon Sunday. Most coverage of the incident has been extremely one-sided up to this point, so I’m here to tell my side of the story and clear my name. My lawyer begged me not to write this, but I didn’t pay him a $20,000 advance (shoutout Opportunity Fund) so I could take his “measured,” “common sense” advice on “admissibility during trial.” I’m hopeful that my words will help you empathize with my experience, and see that I’m not the monster I have been made out to be.
To give a bit of background on the day of the alleged “preschooler punting,” I had just missed the Marguerite again. For the third time that week, I watched powerlessly as the driver flipped me off, smirked and peeled away. Determined not to let these psychologically violent horrors get to me, I started on what was, by all accounts, a pleasant walk home. After all, gorgeous outward aesthetics painstakingly curated by untold levels of obscured labor is, like, the one thing this campus does pretty well.
I was nearly home when I heard it: a tiny, high-pitched giggle emanating from right behind me…teeeheeeheeeheeee. Still recovering from Marg-gate, I was overtaken by the sheer scale of the dissonance between the day I was having and the glee he was feeling. Something primal and unknowable short circuited in my brain, and before I knew what was happening, I saw red and blacked out. When I came to, I saw what one might call a young man of pre-kindergarten age splayed out in the neatly trimmed bushes, getting stung by a half dozen disturbed bees. According to witnesses at the scene, I had “allegedly” swiped my foot across the “alleged” face of the “alleged” “small” “child.”
While I recognize how the incident might initially come across, I ask you, dear reader, to resist succumbing to knee-jerk reactions. “OMG! You can’t punt a literal baby just because he was experiencing unbridled joy?!” you might say. But I contend that he wasn’t just giggling cheerfully. I was purposely targeted by this seemingly-carefree child as part of a broader campaign of juvenile harassment.
Don’t believe me? Well, here’s some facts: Piaget’s theory of child cognitive development states that children in the preoperational stage (ages 2-7) use “logic based on their own personal knowledge of the world so far.” So you’re telling me this guy’s waddling around deep in grad housing territory, day in, day out, no job, and he doesn’t know how to act around us? Bullshit. I go through unimaginable horrors every day on this campus and here comes Little Billy Gigglesburg laughing his stupid f—ing face off without a care in the world. No crushing weight of impending debt. No mental-health-crisis-inducing academic pressure. No whittling away of his personal values at every defense contractor career fair. Just vibes and teeheeheeheehee unencumbered by the weight of the miasma of imminent doom that follows us all like a storm cloud. How dare you, I thought. I’m suffering through a PSET triple header and you’re sitting there. Laughing. I know for a fact that little jerk has seen me and thousands just like me stuck in this vicious cycle of stress, fear and regret. He knows how to read the room. He knew what he was doing: He was mocking me with his tiny adorable body and dumb little tricycle.
In conclusion: I stand by my actions and refuse to let society label me the villain. That little rat had it coming, and unfortunately, I am the only one of us brave enough to take a stand against the small-child tyranny that plagues our campus community. Sure, every now and again the odd Fizz post will call out some exhausted 11th-year Ph.D. couple and demand that they more effectively corral their (smugly!) giggling children in Arrillaga “Family” Dining Center — but this is not enough to liberate us. Making a real change requires that the strongest of us takes unorthodox action.
So, dear reader, given this evidence I urge you to sign the petition demanding my immediate release and the clearing of all charges. Hit up my Linktree, donate to my GoFundMe and subscribe to my Patreon. All links can be found under my author page.
Stay blessed, and I — largely dependent on OCS policies on crimes against children — will see you soon.
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