[Ed. Note: Learn the definition of Werkhorrer]I remember, as a kid, asking my parents, "Why do I have to go to school?" They gave me the obligatory answer, "Cuz."
Well, I now know what I'll tell my kids when they ask that question: "Because this is what you're going to deal with for the rest of your life. No one gets out of grade school. When you go into the work-world, you deal with malignant children who are packed tight with decades of neuroses, pathologies, wretchedness and honed sadistic tendencies.
"You see that kid over there who hoards all of the crayons? He'll be your C.E.O. someday. See that other kid who kicks everyone in the nuts for no reason? She'll be your manager. And those other kids, all with their fingers stuck up their noses, gazing into the fluorescent lights as though they're having religious visions? They'll be your co-workers.
"Get used to dealing with them now so you won't commit suicide three months into your first office job."
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