Why I hate children:

-- because they hated me first.

I hear some strange sounds when I'm alone in this apartment. Beneath us there is a conference room that hosts various events, and sometimes at night I hear applause. Today for the second time this week I heard a woman practicing some opera. And also for the second time, I heard a baby crying. This time however, I could identify the source of noise: in the courtyard beside ours, which I can see into from my kitchen window, there was a little girl, I'd guess about 4 years old, screaming her guts out. No parents in sight. I watch for a while thinking, okay, should I do something? Try to get into the closed courtyard, try to alert someone who actually SPEAKS German? But after watching the kid for a while, I begin to understand the true nature of her hysterics. She was not in distress, she was not scared of being by herself, no... She was really f-ing pissed off and did NOT want to be outside anymore. And who can blame her? No one else in the surrounding area wanted her to be there anymore either. However, in a rare sympathetic mood for a crying child, I was still concerned for her, and so in between relating the story to N, I dashed back and forth to the kitchen window to keep checking on her. Once I saw a woman come up and try to talk to her, but apparently without success, and continue into the building. The child continued to cry. Finally, I could stand it no longer, and stood in front of the window trying to decide whether I should run put my shoes on, or .... yes, I opened the window and leaned out (the only good thing about no screens on windows, leaning out possibilities). She immediately saw me and stopped crying. We stared at eachother. Now what?
"Are you okay?" I asked, thinking, okay -- that's a universal expression right? I tried again. "Where's your mom?" Still nothing. "Is she inside?" Batting zero, and moving away from anything the child will have ANY hope of understanding. We stared some more, both of us, I think, completely at a loss as to what to do next. Finally, the child edged away into the entrance hall of the building, and stared at me fearfully from there. Great. I really saved that situation. Now child is cowering in entryway. Perfect.
I closed the window, thinking, Behold! The A-Effect. Child runs and hides. I just don't got it.

But at least she stopped f-ing crying.

The next time I checked the window, the kid had gone inside.