There is a line at the coffee joint eight people deep. A family of four is up next and when it is their turn they decide to have a conversation with their two small children about choices. Dad, at his self-righteous Easter best, proceeds to read off every option on the  menu to both kids and then turns his attention to the pastry case. While doing this, Mom is trying to talk over everything and explain to the little girl why we have choices. It is like lesson #4 day at fucking pre-school. Even with the huge number of options laid out for them like jewels on a velvet cloth, the little monsters still cannot make a decision and begin to wail, cry, and scream. Nothing says Sunday morning like two kids crying so hard they are about to shit themselves while Mommy and Daddy do absolutely nothing to resolve the situation. Meanwhile, a line full of people without children are running out of patience and are about to make a sacrificial offerings of both kids and parents. People with places to go and people to see have to listen to baby talk and life lessons about choices. You know what, choose for your fucking kids and let’s get this goddamn show on the road. Nobody is impressed and if you look back at the people in line with the look of “I know, aren’t they adorable” on your face you are bound to have issues with the mob. Completely clueless about anybody around them. This charmer of a family is now upstairs and the yells of the kids are piercing the morning air. They were clearly dressed for the once a year church service so I suggest you leave the building and let people have coffee in peace. Your choice.