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9 Regrets Regarding My Illegal Day Care

#5. I Am Sorry About the Frank Language

Many of the children may have reported to you that I used strong language in their presence. There's no excuse for this, but there is a reason. When the, uh, bear, approached me to ask why I was sprinkling Dorito crumbs on a group of crying children (to attract animals), I was forced to assert my authority as a child care enthusiast. Perhaps a little forcefully. (Specifically, I said the F-word and the S-word and made the gesture you do with your mouth and tongue and hand and left elbow and then say "Your mom. That's your mom" while talking to someone and pointing at your crotch.)

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"AND YOUR DAD LIKES TO WATCH AND BEAT OFF."

Hence the apology.

#4. I Am Sorry About the Animals

Seagulls lured by Doritos and trapped in a ball of glue and children make a hell of a noise -- not dissimilar to the sound children make when trapped in a ball of glue and seagulls, interestingly. This sound of food in distress attracted many of the other small predators of the region, and sensing an opportunity to teach the children about the food chain, I stood back and let nature take its course, as it were.

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"Children, today's guest lecturer will be this vicious badger. I want you to give him all the respect and loose bits of meat you would normally give me."

#3. I Am Sorry About the Police Chase

One side effect of running the best deal in child care is that I have made certain enemies in the full service child care industry. So I wasn't entirely surprised to see the police, those lackeys of the legitimate child care industry, pull into the highway rest stop, lights flashing. Here at the Bucholz Early Learning Experience, we have a kind of lovable, Dukes of Hazzard-esque relationship with the local constabulary, and are well-prepared for such events. I put "Radar Love" on repeat and left a massive patch of day care rubber behind.

Golden Earring also provided inspiration for the official Bucholz Early Education Experience uniforms.

Although not unexpected, I always regret involving 40-plus minors in my scrapes with the law (my experience running the Bucholz Textile Factory Experience left a real sour taste in my mouth), so I'll apologize profusely for that here. Although I should point out that I wasn't just acting in my own interests; I was protecting you from scrutiny as well. "What kind of monster would allow their children to be glued together in the back of a dump truck and led on a chase down windy mountain roads?" is a question I can easily ask the media asking about you in the days and weeks to come. "Beats me," I'd respond, shaking my head sadly in this interview where I'm being cited as a child care expert. "A big one?"

So just keep in mind that although I'm sorry for any bruising and pants-wetting and badger-panic my flight from the law provoked, all of the speed, drifting, and drawbridge ramping that followed was purely to protect you from scrutiny. Your $12 a month had elicited a sacred vow from me not to abandon your children, and I meant to keep my word.

#2. I Am Sorry for Abandoning Your Children

As slapdash as the local police are, they aren't bad enough to lose a car chase with a day care, and by the time "Radar Love" started for the fourth time, I knew I probably wasn't going to lose them. At that point, with your children now clearly going to be captured either way, I concluded that leaving them behind could not morally be considered abandonment, and dumped them on the highway shoulder.

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I slowed way, way down to do so. The hydraulics on the bed don't work otherwise.

With the police appropriately distracted by the ball of children now rolling into a drainage ditch, I made good my escape, although out of respect, I changed to the Katamari Damacy soundtrack.


"Do do do do, do do do do. Do do do do, do do do do!"

#1. I Am Sorry for Having to Ask You for This

And so here we are. You've gotten your children back from child services and been subjected to all sorts of hard questions like the ones I bet you wish you'd asked me, and now your house smells of glue solvent. And I'm a fugitive from justice, living high on the hog with the $400 I made from this little adventure. I can only imagine the language you'd use if we met face to face.

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Which is why it pains me to bring up the fact that my cousin apparently didn't mean to give me that glue, and that we really need to replace it. So, in light of the fact that I don't want to give you my mailing address, could you please leave $8/child under your doormat upon receipt of this letter?

And finally, if you could also sign the attached bit of paper to give your children permission to attend the discussed field trip to the zoo, that'd be super swell. (Any language in there absolving me of abusing your children, ritually abusing your children, and just regular emotionally abusing your children is, I'm told, standard boilerplate.)



Chris Bucholz is a Cracked columnist and your best friend. Join him on Facebook or Twitter and make him reconsider that.

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