There’s a mother at the cafe, and she’s there with her child.  The boy is about one year old, and he’s pointing at his mother’s iced coffee beverage and bellowing his wordless desire to get his hands on it.  The mother sternly says, “No,” then flattens her hand to her chest and adds, “Mine!”

That’s fantastic parenting.  Teach the kid to be a selfish little prick who hoots, “Mine!  Mine!  Mine!” for every object that enters into his snotty mitts. Why not give him a shot of bourbon and pack of Marlboro reds while you’re at it?  This is the first stepping stone to turning a healthy human being into a person who believes Ayn Rand is a wonderful philosopher.  Mine!


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