Three years ago when I moved to Minnesota, I fervently completed the initial chapters of a children's story, but quit the project abruptly. I couldn't let children read anything so bitingly sarcastic, yet those who did taste of the lucsious fruit of my endeavor still, to this day, beg for more! More narrative to satisfy our rotting little hearts, swift writer of children's stories! More characters we love to hate and hate some more! More, more, more! To them, I say, "Please contact me at work no more, no more. You're all starting to creep me out. Why don't you get on with life? You're missing out on childhood. Look--there it goes. I don't think it even likes you...so, uh, did you get anything nice for Christmas?"
If children are make-believe children, as featured in the above paragraph, then mean comments made about then can surely be excused.