That people should not be named after geographic locations: Paris, Sydney etc. Some of them aren’t bad but in general the trend should be avoided . . . "This is our son, Istanbul, but sometimes we call him Constantinople, and this is our daughter, Lake Titicaca."
That automatic flushes should be removed from all toilets. They frighten children (and some adults) they’re prone to malfunction so that they flush repeatedly creating a "Niagara falls" effect in both noise and water consumption, and half the time they don't flush anyway so you're stuck touching the same damn button that 50 million other feces infested hands have touched. At least with a handle you could use your foot!
That what the Greeks and Romans referred to as "the Ambrosia of the Gods" still exists today in the form of Little Debbie crème filling.
That a toddler’s desire to shove his finger up his nose to the 3rd knuckle, greatly increases proportionate to the number of judgmental on-lookers. The same goes for crotch grabbing, temper tantrums and the use of the word "fuck".
That all public restrooms (including the men’s – let’s hear it for the Daddy’s) should be equipped with baby changing stations.
That there is a special level of hell for people who steal and/or vandalize lawn ornaments, jack-o-lanterns and Christmas decorations. Perhaps a hell in which they go to sleep every night secure in the safety of their neighborhood, and the sanctity of respect for our common man only to wake up in the morning to find that their genitalia has been stolen off their body, mutilated and thrown into the middle of the street. Oh and there’s also a special level for door to door salesmen too. They’ll be forced to care for 50 1month olds and then when they’re all finally down for a nap, and they have one small shining moment of peace, before their butt can even hit the couch there will be a knock on the door, signaling an army of beagles to howl for 15 min. straight.
That you get out of life what you put into it.
That there is nothing better than sleeping late on the weekends, snuggled up in bed with your spouse, the kids and the dog.
That there is no such thing as a comfortable g-string.
That it’s never a good idea to reunite a boy band almost 20 years after their heyday. Because curling up with a screen-printed pillowcase of former pop stars pushing 40 and the guy from Boogie nights will be just a little creepy.