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Dear Daylight Savings From Every Parent In America

Stick it where the sun don't shine.

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Did you mean to make my six-year-old cry when she had to wake up in total darkness for school this morning? Because you did, you fucking asshole. She was sure it was too early and she was furious with you.

But you were nowhere to be found, Daylight Saving, so I had to absorb her wrath on your behalf.

Was it your intention to drive parents in America slowly insane every six months when the bed time schedules we spend all year meticulously setting get blown to shit so you can "spring forward" or "fall back."

(In fact, I wish you'd fall back on a bed of swords and die.)


Did you think you were being funny when you let me sign up for a 7 a.m. parent-teacher conference the Monday after we lost an hour? I bet you thought that was real cute, didn't you, you cheeky bastard.

And how about tonight — when all I'll want to do is curl up on the couch and zone out — but my child will still be running around like a maniac because she thinks it’s 7 p.m.?