Look lady, I know it must be a drag to have six kids by the age of 25, but the library isn't your fucking personal babysitter. Once the public school/tax dollar daycare service let out for the summer, I've noticed your filthy spawn in increasing numbers, and watched as you dropped them off, only to sneak away for an afternoon of Marlboro lights and Diet Cokes. And when the cell phone rings and disturbs every other semi-literate person in the place, don't broadcast your pathetic troubles about not being able to get a babysitter or having to get home early to walk your infirmed mother, because you'll get no sympathy from any of us. I and the other people with homicidal cringes are avoiding the likes of you. I beg of you, before a seventh brat pops out, let us return to the good old days, when you tied your brood up in the yard, ate 39 cent cheeseburgers, and watched Donahue.