The Spoilt Brat
Some of you may have read my post earlier in this QOTW, it was about my daughter’s birthday party, and how it was pretty much ruined by a snot-nosed little bile demon called Maia. Some of you may even have read some of my replies, in which I mentioned that I was going to be throwing her a second party, to make up for the slightly disappointing first one.

Isabelle turned seven on Thursday, and the worst part of it was that I hadn’t been able to get her a single present. Worse still, I only spent around an hour with her on her birthday. You see, I’ve just started a new job, and my first pay cheque didn’t clear in time for me to buy her anything, I was totally skint. The new job also meant that I had to work a long day, I’d given my new employers notice that it was my daughter’s birthday, but they couldn’t find (or couldn’t be arsed to find) cover for me, so I was only allowed a couple of hours off in the afternoon.
I had to make her a birthday card the night before, by cutting out pictures of Troy from High School Musical, Barbie and Tinkerbell from magazines that she’s collected, and sticking them to a sheet of coloured card.
I doubt whether she even noticed that I didn’t bring her any presents. She was too busy with her friends and the many toys that she had got from other people, but I hardly got to spend any time with her. The party was at her Mum’s house, and I had to spend the afternoon preparing the food and putting things together, like the Kiddizoom digital camera that needed batteries, and the High School Musical DVD dancemat that needed to be assembled. …and then I had to rush back to work, because the girl who was covering for me ‘had to go on her tea break at 5’, which is obviously much more important than my daughter’s birthday.
After the party, before she went to bed, my little girl told her Mum that it hadn’t felt like it was her birthday, and that she really wished I’d been there.

The next day my pay cheque finally cleared. I bought a big card, Barbie Airplane, a Piranha Panic board game, and a small acoustic guitar, then I set about organising the second party. I only invited my nine year old brother, and my niece and nephew, Isabelle always gets on really well with all of them.

That night I picked the little ‘un up from her Mum’s, and put her to bed at home, then I set phase one of my plan into action.
I wrapped her presents, which was no easy task, that aeroplane and the guitar were bloody huge, and I cut out more pictures of Tinkerbell and her little friends from the Disney ‘Fairies’ magazines Isabelle had left over. Then, and not for the first time, I wrote Isabelle a letter from the Fairies themselves.
I placed the letter and the presents at the foot of her bed, and left them there for her to find in the morning.

The next day I woke her up early, and it took her a whole minute after getting out of bed to actually notice the bloody massive pink wrapped boxes in her room, but it was like Christmas from that moment on, in fact, it was better than Christmas; Santa Claus has got nothing on those Fairies.
I packed Isabelle off to her friend’s house, where she was taken to a local Reptile room and she got to stroke a Tarantula, some Scorpions and a nine foot Python (no pun intended, you dirty-minded bastards), while I went to Sainsbury’s to fill a trolley with Party Rings, jelly and ice cream, cakes, sausage rolls, Pringles, dips, breadsticks carrots, cucumbers, cream soda and coke, not even to mention the pass the parcel prizes.

The party at my place was brilliant, everybody had a great time, the kids ran riot, and I had dozens of games out for them to play with. Everybody won something at pass the parcel, and we had a massive dance-off competition on our other dancemats, in which I soundly beat my sister-in-law (the only other adult who stayed for the day) 57,425 points to 19,026, to ‘Who Do you Think You Are?’ by the Spice Girls. I FUCKING ROCK.

So, my little girl is spoiled completely rotten, and deservedly so. She’s inherited the shyness that I found totally crippling when I was little, and has a very meek, mild-mannered nature, but luckily for her she has a Dad who understands what that’s like and has been through it, so she’s gained more confidence than I ever had at that age, and she will never, ever be a brat.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 10:41, 17 replies)

Awwwww
So nice to have a happy ending to that one. Gives us a quick breather from all the vitriolic rage that's still spewing forth from the heart of this qotw.

Have a click.

(And now to return to the fun of splenetic fury...I'm really enjoying this qotw...)
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:08, closed)

There's nothing like
Feeling the red mist rise, is there?

Some of these stories have made me want to punch my keyboard in half.

This story is lovely, as is Mr. Simianfornication.

*clicks*
( Cawl, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:11, closed)

You can't beat a bit of catharsis.
Though admittedly some of the stories have made me really sad (especially the one about Sally's kittehs).

But it's also reassuring to know that I'm not the only one who gets annoyed with the smug, rich bastards who have laughed at him in the past.
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:13, closed)

Yeah...
I've sadly only got one story this week, and it's not that great.

I went to private school, and my uni was in Surrey, so... *twitches*
I hate people, but I hate spoilt rich people more than anyone else.
( Cawl, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:17, closed)

I'm still toying with whether to tell my story
Just a lengthy rant about my first girlfriend - rich bitch and a pathological bully to boot. I'm a forgiving person and she's the only person against whom I still hold any sort of grudge, I'm not sure if the story would make for an entertaining read.
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:34, closed)

If you make it vitriolic enough
It'll be fun to read.
If you keep it downbeat, you'll get sympathy clicks.
Maybe...
( Cawl, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:37, closed)

Ok...
but only if you tell yours as well.
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:48, closed)

Ok...
I shall get typing :p
Mine's dull and short.

So is the story.
( Cawl, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:49, closed)

Will you be my daddy?
.
( girlinthehole, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:09, closed)

I'll be your Daddy.
Oh yeah.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:22, closed)

What BGB said
please?
(Lucy Van Pelt embracing ginlovers, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:18, closed)

...and yours.


:)
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 11:23, closed)

Huzzah
You rock, for recognising her shyness and helping her with it.
(ToysForBigBoys would spread her legs for Nick Clegg., Mon 13 Oct 2008, 12:17, closed)

Hats off to you Sir!
As a shy lad myself i appreciate you understand. And, of course, yer one hell of a dad.

More hats off!
(DreddPirateBob has watched every scifi film ever on, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 18:25, closed)

You massive gaylord
I love it. So do you.
( Bazongaloid, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 21:06, closed)

Aww.
I love cool dad stories. You are a cool dad.

*clicks*
( HairyCanary as Ann B. Davis as Alice, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 12:20, closed)

T'in Seren!
You're a star!

I hope I can be as splendid as you as my little lass gets older!
(EffinDoubt is breaking glass on, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 16:45, closed)