Damien is nothing compared to Matthew...
The fact is that as a fairly middle-class kinda kid with no siblings, i have often been labelled as spoilt, but the truth is that my home life was rather unpleasant at times (my earliest memories of my father are of visiting him in hospital after an industrial accident in which he ruptured his spleen, shattered his pelvis, his elbow and wrist, broke both legs and crushed two vertebrae). The subsequent prescribing of Valium to numb him to the pain and two-year period of addiction and cold turkey meant that my formative years were full of smashed furniture and swearing, but he got his shit together and our family get along pretty well now. There are times when my parents and I have a row, but that's just normal because we're all pretty headstrong and we are at least grown up about it.

No, the spoilt kid I refer to is my friends' son, who I shall call Matthew because that's the little bastard's name.

Now, his dad is my best and oldest friend, who is as close to me as a brother and who my parents put up rent-free for six months, as well as sorting out his £20k+ debts. Needless to say, we've been through a lot together. He is, however, and I say this with all kindness, a bit of a tit. He's one of these people who reads crap on the interweb and takes it all as gospel truth.

His missus, however, is a bit of a damp squib. I've known her ten years or more and still would struggle to make conversation. She's passive-aggressive personified and is now making it her business to alienate all of my mate's friends so that she can control their social life and fill it full of her yummy mummy friends. When they bought their new house, it was riddled with damp, had no damp course and the interior walls were in danger of collapse. I and some other friends basically rebuilt it for them free of charge and then one of our mates who is a builder-type put their floor and kitchen down. The wife then fucked it up by dumping loads of furniture on the floor before it settled, meaning the kitchen had to be ripped out, the floor re-laid and the kitchen re-fitted, before she then refused to pay for ANYTHING.

I tell you this, because their kid is the spawn of Satan. She's insisted on teaching him baby-sign, so he waves his hands around when he wants stuff (like in Meet The Parents), which was cool when he was 6 months old, but he's now approaching 2 years and still won't speak because he's learned that his mother (who is never more than two feet away from him) a) understands his stupid gestures and, b) laughs when he screams at the top of his lungs and kicks the crap out of things until he gets what he wants.

Now, my wife and I just moved into a 16th Century former coach-house/inn and thought we'd throw a housewarming bash. We invited friends, including this couple, for a barbecue, some drinks and to stay over. I spent in excess of £300 on food alone, as we were expecting 15 or so people.

When they arrived, the little shit a) threw things across the lounge until he was sat in front of the TV with his Night Garden DVD, b) swung on the 100 year old french-windows like a see-saw whilst his mother laughed at him, c) screamed when he shut his fingers in said french windows (at which point I laughed my ass off), ruined the day by pissing off all the other kids who were playing football in the garden, as he insisted on sitting in the middle of the lawn with his Iggle-fucking-Piggle toy and his mother stopped all fun in case her litle darling got caught by a football. Cue six sulking kids and a lot of muttering parents. He then poked the cat in the eye (oh, how I laughed when it went for him), caught my pregnant wife in the stomach with a wooden block when he had his pre-bed tantrum and screamed the place down constantly.

I don't know who to beat first - my mate for letting his missus act like she owned the sodding place, her for letting the little fucktard run riot, or the little dipshit. I was tempted to drop kick his ass into the brambles just for the hell of it - the mother has now decreed we aren't suitable friends, based primarily on the fact she's jealous of our house and new car (a fact imparted to me by a mutual friend when I asked why we hadn't heard from my mate in a couple of months).

My kid will have all the advantages I can give it, but it will behave properly or I'll be the first to kick its ass....I hate those Yummy Mummy types with a passion. Grrr!
(Chad, Thu 9 Oct 2008, 15:15, 3 replies)

Yikes!
With that litany of awfulness, long friendship or no, I'd have kicked them out of the house, out of the party, and out of my life.

Your poor friend. Though, he can't be entirely innocent of blame. He picked her, after all.
(Musuko, Thu 9 Oct 2008, 16:23, closed)

it gets better...
When they met, she was shagging one of his mates (a walking Ego of a drummer), who was using her as an easy lay whilst he decided if he wanted to dump his missus or not. He picked her primarily because my mate fancied her.

Cue six months of her moaning to my mate about how she's being treated, then stringing him along about whether she might or might not go out with him. At one point we had to chase him round the m25 to stop him jumping on the first plane out of the country because she'd wound him up so much.

So when she deemed it time to go out with him (i.e the drummer got bored), he then moved out of his flat, sold most of his stuff (as she wouldn't have it in the house) and alienated the faltmates he bailed on to be with her. Who then lost their flat. She then kicked him out as she "wasn't sure she wanted a relationship", which is when he turned up on my parents' doorstep with everything he owned in three bin bags. After six months she got her shit together and let him move in (again).

I really have no time for the spoilt bitch....
(Chad, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 12:42, closed)

next time
Pick said child up, hand it back to its mother saying, "I think this is your's."
(whiskas loved by 8 out of 10 cats, Sun 12 Oct 2008, 10:48, closed)