Parents ruin everything. Especially my peace and THEIR children.

Kids or Parents?

Let me start off with saying, I’m on a boat (on a boat, mother-fucker, on a boat!). More specifically, I’m on a Virgin Atlantic cruise, the Scarlet Lady, and I’ve got to tell you, this experience has been tits up thus far!

Now, I’m not the world’s most experienced cruiser, having only been on three including this one, but I am extremely well travelled in general, so I think that has to count for something. As I sit here on the aft portion of deck seven, the sun about 20 degrees up from sunrise, I am struck by just how peaceful this trip has been. While I’m sure Mr. Branson would love for me to say it’s the incredible difference in service and attention from the crew (which I’ll admit is the best I’ve experienced in my life), I think it’s actually something more basic than that.

There’s. No. Fucking. Kids.

Anywhere. Not one.

I just looked and Virgin isn’t the only kid-free cruise line, but it is the first of it’s kind that I’ve been on, and I have to tell you, this is what living should be like!

But before you accuse me of hating on the little snots, let’s be clear about one thing: I rarely have an issue with children. If anything it’s the fucking free-to-be you-and-me parents that I want to accidentally bump over the railing.

Kids don’t know any better. And it’s not the noise, because this is basically a sex-party boat and the adults in the room are just as, if not more obnoxiously loud. Especially the beefsteak squad walking around flexing… they really want you to know they spend all of their time in the gym (only working chest and arms, of course 😂). And as alcohol is ubiquitous the adults can get a little fuzzy on their bubbles and bump into mine on more than one occasion.

But kids aren’t drunk, or blasted out of their minds on an Ativan and Redbull-Vodka combo, they instead just don’t know any better, and their parents for whatever reason feel that little Johnny and Tabitha’s life experiences are more important than my peaceful bubble, so go on, throw those sugar packets at his relaxing bald dome.


At peace in a kid-free world.

Yeah, never mind. The kids piss me off, too. But I only ever want to take it out on the parents, so that makes me a zen-fucking master. Living in Oregon has brought me nothing but these types of experiences, where parents just turn a blind eye (ear, nose, whatever sense organ you’d like to bring to the party) and let the little fart-goblins wander around getting life experience at the expense of the rest of peaceful society.

Nope, I will pick a kid-free zone any time I can, and I’d even pay more to add that as an optional service. An extra $50-100 per seat on an airplane for no screaming children and the Kardashianesque mom, covered head to toe in pink LL Lemon attire giving less than two turds about the incessant tantrums the 4-year old feels included to throw? EJECT!

I’m curious to know how many other people feel like I do. Does annyone else out there struggle with the kids or the parents as much as I do? And which is worse, or at least where do you place the blame? Would you pay more for a guaranteed 18, 21, or even 30+ environment? Let me know, because I’m considering putting together a political action committee on this one! 😈

Okay, time to flip. I’m due for 20 minutes on the back before I head for sunscreen.