Seriously? A Pool Prodigy? At Three?!
Right, let’s talk about this. Apparently, we now have a toddler in England whos somehow better at pool and snooker than I am after years of awkwardly bumping balls into each other with questionable precision. Hes broken Guinness World Records. Two of them! Before he’s even mastered the art of putting on his own shoes. Is this what we’ve come to?
I suppose it’s supposed to be inspiring, this tiny human wielding a cue stick like a seasoned professional. But frankly, I find it deeply unsettling. What about my childhood dreams of becoming a world-renowned… something? They were crushed by the weight of algebra homework and awkward teenage years! This kid gets accolades for sinking balls before he can properly pronounce “zebra.”
And don’t even get me started on the pressure! Imagine growing up knowing you peaked at age three. The constant comparisons, the expectation to remain a miniature billiards savant forever. Its just… absurd. I bet he cries when he runs out of juice boxes. Meanwhile, adults are struggling with crippling student debt and existential dread.
Honestly, can we all collectively agree that children should be allowed to simply be children? Let them smear paint on walls, build blanket forts, and fail spectacularly at tying their shoelaces without being burdened by the weight of global record-breaking potential. Please. Just let him play with dinosaurs for a while.
