Same as Kaol.
I'm sure, in the position, anyone would do the same.

I bet that kid learned an important lesson that day.
( Thinker, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:21, 16 replies)

I was *not* a cute child
I was in fact one of these annoying precocious brats who has the vocabulary of an Oxbridge graduate before they've stopped wetting the bed.

My parents used to listen to Radio 4 constantly. Over lunch, they would be listening to The World At One. Every day. And every day, when the politicians started ranting at each other, I used to bang my spoon on my high chair and shout, "ORDER! ORDER!"
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:20, 3 replies)

Best way to settle a children's arguement....
SUMO!!!!!

We make em have a sumo match.

It's so funny it diffuses the situation.
( girlinthehole, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:10, 3 replies)

Time for a pearoast me thinks. I ruined the day trip of the most annoying kid I've ever had the misfortune of being in the vicinity of...
As an experienced traveller of buses, I feel that I have gained a invaluable insight into the problems of public transport. The main problem is that OTHER PEOPLE ARE ANNOYING. This rule applies tenfold in the case of children.

So, one particular day I get on the bus to go into town and take my seat towards the back of the bus. Far back enough to not be sat with the elderly, but not too far back to be stuck with the thugs. All is going as well as a journey in a clapped out stinking bus can possibly go, when the child from hell jumps aboard with his fat arsed chav mother. They sit in the gap thats designed for the elderly and the crippled in the standard display of selfish procrastinating lazyarsed effortless behaviour that you now seem to expect from the tax swallowing handout dependent wasters that are the chav class. The mother opens a family bag of doritos, and proceeds to munch her way to an early grave, while satans fart stands on his seat and starts pressing the bell over and over...and over again.

This went on for about 10 minutes, and I could see everyone on the bus becoming restless as they all got closer and closer to a total nervous breakdown. And then, something incredible happened. Something so extraordinary, noone saw it coming... The mother actually did some parenting.

"IF YOU TOUCH THAT BELL ONE MORE FUCKING TIME WE'RE GOING HOME YOU LITTLE SHIT!" she bellowed menacingly at the perfectly described "little shit". The child immediatly stopped, looking shocked and upset but kept his hand near the button mostly for balance. And so, the perfect opportunity for vengeance had shown itself.

With a quick glance at the mother to make sure she wasn't looking at either me or the demon spawn, I reached up and rang the bell in quick succession. The mother glared at the child, his hand still over his button, and with wails of protest she picked him up, and marched off of the bus screaming at him that he was no longer going to the zoo.
( Furness, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:09, 11 replies)

No way of making this less wince inducing I am afraid lads.
At the tender age of five he dropped the wooden toilet lid it's full height on his knob. The noise he made was like the death throes of a warthog. The bruising it left was spectacular and remained for a good couple of weeks. The sound of muffled adult laughter almost lasted as long.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:08, 2 replies)

Watford football club in the early 80's
Back in the day when Watford were a top notch footie club my Dad had a season ticket and one for me (under 5 years old) to get me out of mum's hair for the afternoon.

It was about 1982 and a big game in the FA cup Watford were playing Chelsea.

Now back then Chelsea had a bit of a bad name, not much better now, but let's not get sidetracked.

This tense rivalry had led to a much more vocal game than normal a clever little me had been soaking up the atmosphere.

There was a foul and a free kick was on the cards....

The stadium fell silent as the Chelsea player lined up the ball and psyched himself up for the kick.

You could hear a pin drop....

So you can imagine the result when a little voice piped up "Chelsea are a load of f*cking rubbish!"

The ref, the linesmen and 22 professional football players stood and looked on in utter bemusement as 14,000 Watford supporters errupted in laughter.

I suspect the players might not have heard my little voice so from their point of view for no apparent reason thousands of people were laughing their asses off at someone preparing for a free kick.

Meanwhile my poor Dad was embarrissed and I can recall a less than brilliant drive home. I didn't get to go the next week.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:06, 1 reply)

My Nephew Jake
Jake is 4. And he is relativley uninhibited, as most 4 year olds are. BUt he is FAR more reserved these days vs. his second year.

As SOON as someone would undo his diaper to change him, he would IMMEDIATELY start messing with Little Jake. And I mean NON-STOP!

Jake is obviously ahead of the learning curve on the "penis equals fun" journey! I have rarely been prouder of one of my siblings offspring!
( Citadel Because the world needs less morons, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:05, 4 replies)

Him Indoors
Has a neice and nephew who recently came to stay with us. His neice is 4 (and 3/4, as she constantly reminds us) is in a stage where she asks very difficult questions. In one hour I had to field questions such as 'Does dying hurt?' 'Where do people go when they die' 'Where do babies come from' and 'Is Jesus the same as Harry Potter? ('Yeah, probably')'

I miss having her here, even if she does bang on the door when I'm having a wee or stands six inches from my face when I'm asleep.
(missc, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:04, Reply)

Girls poo! Yes! Seriously!
Camp generates the best shit stories- here is one of them.

Long one, so apologies for length in advance.

Last year was my first time as a counselor at my youth movement's end-of-year camp. I led the 11-to-12-year-old age group. The age group have a Hebrew name (Shtilim) which means "Saplings". They are called this because they are green. foul-smelling and hit you in the face if you bend them too much. We try and keep them occupied for three weeks to stop them going insane from boredom and to let their parents recuperate.

So anyway, I was tasked with taking care of a group of 8 girls from Johannesburg. They were righteous terrors, staying up until 3 in the morning to sing Rhianna songs and smash the boys' ladders (they used ladders to get to the cabins in which they slept).

However, none was more terrifying than Elena*.

Elena was a slightly addled kid who was notorious for jumping off the (15m high) kitchen roof and bringing homeless people from the nearby beach to the site because she "thought they were cute". We were mortally afraid that she would end up pregnant or something. Thankfully, this did not happen. After a week, we relaxed, thinking the threshhold for insanity had passed.

Little did I know that things were to become slightly surreal.

I was wakened one Thursday night by a bloodcurdling howl. "ROOOOOOBEEERRRRT!!!!!!" This was repeated 7 or 8 times. I pulled my clothes on and raced to the cabin. Upon enquiry, it transpired that Elena wanted an escort to the shithouse. I politely declined and invited her (by now wide-awake) friends to take her. They told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way they were going to take "that filthy minger [their words] to the bathroom because last time she had, without warning, dropped trou and curled one out in the shower.

I informed them that it was not my responsibility to take anyone to the bathroom, that it was 3am and I was exhausted and going to sleep. Bad move, Mugabe.

The next morning, the girls were found outside their cabin, shivering with cold. Why? Elena, after crapping them all out (wait for it...) had literally crapped them out. Yes, she had laid a chud on the floor of the cabin- I never thought that anyone could do that and come up with a response like hers ("But I needed iiiiitttttuuuuggghhhh!!!"). She went home that afternoon. It fell to her cabin counselor to clean up, as none of the girls would tough the log. The stench of that 12-year-old girl's product nearly melted my brain and dribbled it out of my arsehole.

I'm taking 15-year-olds this year, thank fuck.

Length? 18 cm and yellow like bad curry.
(Tiktock Beating off flamers with a shitty stick, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:00, 3 replies)

Oldest nephew
when he was two or three (he's 23 now, I can't remember exactly after all these years), decided his "winky" was a gun.

The lounge window at his parents' house was very low, and his little legs put him at the perfect height to "shoot" passersby with his handy weapon. Including two patrolling members of the local police. Who fell about laughing. The Minister didn't find it quite so amusing .... humourless twat.

He stopped when his mum threatened to cut it off with the kitchen scissors, probably scarring him for life (mentally scarred, she didn't actually do it).
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 16:00, 3 replies)

This almost crosses over with the "I witnessed a crime" qotw...
...insofar as we were also asked "are you a have-a-go hero?"

Well, I've found it slightly worrying to sit on a London bus of late. At certain times of day, from the rear of the top deck, inevitably comes the high pitched chav-squeak of a collective of revolting little arsewipes, who are talking in their meaningless sub-language, bloating themselves on e-number-rich junk food, playing some shitty "r 'n' b"* tune on their mobiles and general being a nuisance as the afternoon sun glints off their myriad piercings and bits of tacky jewellery*.

And my first thought is always:
"For god's sake. I would never have behaved like that when I was their age."
I first had that thought when I was 20. Surely I'm not supposed to think this way until I'm 40 and reading the Daily Mail? Yet I still want, sometimes, to turn round and tell them this. Very loudly. Possibly followed by a Full Metal Jacket-style tirade of abuse. (Of course I know full well that, if I do, I'll cock it up and just be laughed at.)

Build me a concentration camp. It is time to correct society.

*_{Or whatever they're into these days. I could have sworn "R 'n' B" stood for "Rhythm & Blues." But I'm sure that's been a thread on here already, before I start ranting for the second time in the same post...}
**_{Why, at this age, do they need mobile phones and jewellery? It looks disgusting, and if I managed to live without a mobile phone until I was 19, they fucking can as well. God knows it might shut the filthy little bleeders up for five minutes...}
(LongJohnBaldry, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:57, 15 replies)

Re: children being funny
No. No they aren't. They just say stupid things that are endearing to their owners. They can't make clever puns, complicated jokes or understand satire. If they were actually funny they'd be on TV hosting Never Mind The Buzzcocks or something.


*awaits flaming*
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:56, 12 replies)

Umm, yes dear.
It went like this:
Son "So mummy you can be mummy bear, daddy you can be daddy bear and i'll be baby bear."
Mum "Okay but who will be Goldilocks, the cat [named Bollinger]?"
Son "Yes, okay, he can be Bollilocks!"

Do you know we didn't see it coming and we're supposed to be the intelligent ones.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:56, Reply)

The best thing ever....
Was introducing my nephew to the delights of watching Dr Who behind the sofa.

*I'm filling up as we speak - sniff*
( girlinthehole, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:52, Reply)

Blissfully ignorant
Is my state of knowledge about kids today - but I still have absolutely no desire to have any.

I do however have a long and vivid memory or myself as a child. (veg)
(Biff..., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:51, Reply)

One of my proudest moments...
A couple of years ago, I was teaching at a summer school run by my then university. It was designed for kids who wouldn't normally stay in school beyond 16, let alone think about a degree, and was supposed to get them considering higher education.

I was running a couple of sessions on medial ethics, but I made sure to give a general introduction to what philosophy in the widest sense is all about. A good example for kids like that is the Matrix analogy. How do they know - if they know at all - that they aren't brains in vats tied to a computer in an otherwise empty universe? And if we can't even be sure that we're not, how the hell can we be sure of anything else? I tried that out with them as a warm-up to the main show.

The following evening, the last of the summer school, there was a dinner for the kids. One of the more talkative ones came up to me.
"I'd like to make a complaint," he beamed.
"Oh, yes?"
"Yes. I couldn't sleep last night, and it's your fault."
"Ummmm... go on..."
"I was wondering whether I was actually dreaming all this, and the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. And I couldn't sleep in the end."

GOTCHA!
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:51, 5 replies)

Ooh, ooh, I've got one
for a change.

Anyway - when my oldest was newly toilet trained (must have been nearly 3, I guess), she was on the loo, so I went up to check she was OK.

She said "look, I've done all the poos in the world".

When I looked ('cos you have to really) - I swear there was poo amounting to about twice her body weight in there. I was very surprised it all flushed away.

My proudest moment, I think.
(Spidge New sig needed, donations gratefully accepted., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:49, 2 replies)

Come again...?
My two year old did go through a period whereby she pronounced socks with an f at the beginning, usually loudly and to other adults. Doesn't make you popular at nursery I can tell you.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:48, Reply)

Little hooligans
I took my then seven year old to the annual interisland championship final football match. Standing next to hardcore opposition fans we were aware of some "ripe" terrace chanting but managing to resist responding "for the children's sake" when aforementioned child, wanting to fit in with the rest of the crowd, leaps to his feet points at one particularly large, balding and rabid gentlemen and screams "You fat pasta". Entire section of terrace goes silent then sits down unsure of how to proceed. I didn't have the heart to correct him (but do blame myself).

Slight pearoast...sort of...so sorry.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:46, 2 replies)

As an only child....
... my experience of kids was limited to watching them throw a tantrum in Tesco or generally looking down my nose at them.

So finding out I was gonna be a Dad the day before I started a new job, having just bought our first house AND relocated halfway across the country was a little concerning.

In fact you could say I was less than pleased. A few days to cool off and I came round to the idea.

It was my daughters 2nd birthday last week and I think she's the greatest thing in my life.

Couple of days ago I was just starting to stir in the morning light on a work day when in walks my little lady, straight round to my side of the bed and kisses me on the nose and whispers "Wakey Daddy!".

Brilliant.


It's been a really positive experience which I could only foresee negative aspects of. So if you find yourself one of the unexpected expecting, I can promise you it's not as bad as you think!

(I have ignored being pee'd on, puked on, poo'd on, shouted at, woken during the night, having no money, dirty carpets, clutter all round the house and the lack of freedom to just go out on a whim after 6pm.)
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:46, 5 replies)

Well, Mummy and Daddy have a 'special hug...'
When I was very young, I walked in to the lounge with a very serious look on my face.

"Mummy," said I, my little blue eyes reflecting the mid-morning sunshine "how did I get in your tummy?"

Mum, ever the quick thinker, gave me a reason that only a toddler could find plausible:

"Well, your daddy gave me a seed and I ate it." (Which, being older and wiser, has even grosser implications than I first thought.)

I frowned, the thought I was giving this subject clearly giving me some trouble. Then, a light bulb appeared over my head. I had worked it out!

"Did he give it to you on a lettuce leaf?"

What a lovely child I must have been.
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:45, 4 replies)

If
there was more wanking there'd be fewer children.
Fact.

This pubic service announcement was brought to you by The Church of CHCB.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:39, 9 replies)

Clarification please?!
Or maybe opinion? I dunno, anyway...

So - up to what age are we talking about here:

- Babies - Loud, smelly. Cute when not being loud and smelly.
- Up to 5 or 6? Definitely children, do the fuh-hun-iest things, etc, etc...
- Up to 12 or so - Probably children, unless you're a theme park, in which case they're definitely adults. Probably know about sex, but still believe most things you tell them, so easy to confuse.
- Up to 16 or so - Kind of children. Teenage, moodly and above average chance of being an Emo-kid. Great to take the piss out of, as you'll get a good reaction. Almost certainly know about sex - and almost certainly doing it wrong if they do and are.
- Up to 18 - Legally still children? Fiesty, independant and skint. Definitely know about sex, and with some practice are getting better at it. Thinking about the opportunities ahead of them - good old adult cynicism hasn't hit yet.
- Up to 21 - Probably not children. But quite possibly still living with parents, dependent on them for food, money, washing, etc. Still treated like a child by government (are alcohol limits going up?)
- Over 21 - Likely to behave like children. More likely to have money to spend on bigger and better toys, able to indulge in sex, drugs and rock & roll to their hearts content, with the inevitable consequence of...

- Babies - and the cycle begins again...
( Fireflier La la la la, not listening on, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:38, 1 reply)

I came downstairs and caught my 3 year-old son...
...standing ON TOP of the TV. (Big 1990s Sony affair). Just standing there, with a smug look on his chops.

"What the hell are you doing up there?"
"This."
(Super Jet Shoes, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:35, 3 replies)

This Is Gonna Be Good....
.
The mods have left us so much room to manoeuvre. We can talk about our own kids (none in my case), when we were kids, our relatives kids or even kids we vaguely know..

And we can drop in crap jokes about kids (but please, no Maddy jokes. I'm sick to fucking death of her...)

But I still think it'll be hard to beat a story from the "Have You Seen A Dead Person" QOTW.

Wee kid, visiting in a relative in hospital, asks if he's poorly.

"He died last night"

"Ah" said kid nodding head wisely.

"Proper poorly"

Cheers

I'll dig up this references for this later and attribute it to the person who wrote it..
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:33, 4 replies)

my eldest son
He lives in Australia. I've never met him threfore I have no amusing stories to tell about him.
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:31, 4 replies)

Kids...
I love em

in fact I have one under my bed as we speak...

Signed
Mick Donovan
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:29, Reply)

Simply because I want first page
A few years ago I was one. How old do you all feel now.

*Page refreshes*

Fucking irony.
(Ellytots Last thought of chocolate on, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:29, Reply)