“But that’s not fair!”

All kids make this comment, I think; and, as a young, little tater tot, I remember saying it to my parents for various kid reasons. The response I always received? “Life’s not fair; get over it.”

Well, it was either that or a wheedling, whiny imitation of baby talk meant to mock or scorn the elementary school-aged me: “But, mmaaahhm, dat’s nof-AIR!”

Let’s just say, I learned pretty damn quick that there was little use in exclaiming how any aspect of my life wasn’t fair. What was the point? What did it change? And, shit, I was a kid; why would I have wanted to give my parents a reason to make fun of me more?

Why did I think of this scene from my childhood this morning?

I was watching the news and found myself baffled by how it is possible that a 7-, 8-, 9-, or 10-year-old me was able to quickly pick up on how life just ain’t fair and there’s no use in whining about it; BUT a grown-ass man – an ADULT, someone who finds himself in one of the highest offices in this world, someone with way more access to way more life experience and information about this world than 10-year-old me had in early 2000 – somehow missed the memo. And that the man still hasn’t learned that his whining about how unfair everything is gets him and everyone else no where is beyond me.

I’m beginning to understand my parents derisive comments to me as a kid because that shit’s annoying.


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