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This is a question Terrible Parenting

My parents used to lock my brother, sister and I in the car while they went to the pub for a "quick one" after work. This quick one might last several hours, during which they would send bottles of Indian Tonic Water to us by way of refreshment.

On one particularly cold evening, bored stupid, we lit a small bonfire on the back seat of the car using the cigarette lighter and the contents of the glove box. We owe our lives to passing winos. (BTW: Please no more Maddie or Jesus gags, they've been done.)

(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 9:47)
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For the first years of my life, I have hideous memories of being stuck in the back of dog-hole rusty sheds of cars like Austin Marinas whilst my parents chain smoked in the front. I wasn’t allowed to open the window because (and I quote):

“That would let the heat out of the car…Don’t be so selfish Pooflake”

How I haven’t done a ‘Roy Castle’ by now is a mystery to me. Suffice to say I never took up smoking in adulthood. It’s a borderline phobia now.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:25, Reply)
How do you make a toddler go "Woof"?
Many years ago mum was trying to light the Rayburn in our new house on a windy day while my young brother peered in curiously. As everyone knows, a little drop of paraffin by way of an accelerant can make this an easier task. But not a pint and a half of four-star, as my inexperienced mother used. The ensuing gout of flame turned my brother's head the colour of a tomato and burnt every ginger hair off his head.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:22, Reply)
I have twin brothers
Whenever one was acting up my Dad would threaten to send him back to the hospital because they'd got a spare.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:21, Reply)
On the 'ead son
My father is an active man, always building and repairing the house. That is how he has managed to drop heavy items of building material on the heads of myself and my brother (who spent time in hospital). However, these stories are not so much interesting as they are long, so I shall leave you with the genius that was "The Kids in the Hall" and their brilliant sketch "Daddy Drank".

Daddy Drank:


(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:19, Reply)
Me! Me! Me! I'm an evil father!
I am a Forest fan. My baby son and I no longer livein Nottingham, however I am determined he will grow up a Forest fan so I can buy us season tickets and go to games with him.

When he was born, he had a Nottingham Forest hat and babygro. He has Forest bibs. And I have just ordered him a baby Away Kit (it's white and very swish!).

I will also be taking him to a game as soon as he is old enough to understand it.

I justify this as being an opportunity to bond with him...
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:18, Reply)
I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. Some may think this unlikely, in view of my lifestyle, but it is true.

The reason for this is not schoolyard brainwashing or anything like that, but is down to my dear old Dad.

When I was about four, I was trying to imitate him, as kids do, and stole his roll up. He asked if I would like to try smoking and naturally I said yes. As my mother stood on, looking and suppressing a chuckle, he put the roll up in his mouth and demonstrated what to do. Then he gave me a cigar, and lit it. I put it betwixt my lips and sucked enthusiastically, taking on board a huge quantity of smoke.

To the accompaniment of my parents' laughter I was prolifically sick, and felt bad for a very very long time (well, several hours). If you don't believe a child can turn green, I'm proof it can.

Naturally, this has put me off smoking.

Perhaps, actually, that was good parenting, being cruel to be kind. That, or my folks have a vicious sense of humour.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:07, Reply)
I'm a ramblin' man
My dad was not a terribly involved parent as I was growing up. One episode that illustrates this quite effectively is the time, when I was about two or three years old, that he was left in charge of me and my sister while my mum went off with her friend for lunch at a pub in the next village.

On her way back from said pub, my mum looked out the car window and saw a small boy standing by the road. This was about mile and a half or so from our house, next to a large wood.

"Oh look," she remarked casually, "that little boy looks just like reallywittylad."

...a pause...

"Shit, it IS reallywittylad!"

On returning to the house, she found my dad sitting in the lounge reading the paper.

"Reallywittydad, where's reallywittylad?" She asked, innocently.

"Out playing in the garden I expect." he replied, utterly oblivious.

He got the bollocking of his life, of course. It seems I'd wandered out the gate, out of our village and into the wood. After a while I'd been found by a young lad who, since I was too young to be able to remember where I lived, had helpfully deposited me next to a major road in the hope that somebody might recognise me. I suppose I was quite fortunate that someone did.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:04, Reply)
After Duke of Edinburgh,
when I still had my bag, my stepdad threatened to beat me up, so I decided to run off.

Mum made me call my auntie to see if I could stay, who then came and picked me up.

(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 11:04, Reply)
Smack my kids up
I'm not one of these lilly-livered liberals who thinks you shouldn't smack kids. In fact I think smacking a kid once in a while would probably do them some good.


I was in the supermarket one day doing my shopping, when I see a mother a bit ahead of me in the aisle. She was pushing a pram, and had a toddler loitering around her.
As she was taking something from the shelf she knocked a can over. She glanced up to see if anyone had seen and noticed that I had.
So she grabs the kid, about four feet away from the incident, smacks him and screams (and I mean screams) "I told you not to touch anything!".

Seemed a little odd. If she was trying to cover up what she'd done (hardly a hanging offence), thinking I'd seen her do it, would she not think that I may also have seen that the kid was nowhere near it?

The kid promptly burst intotears and got the old "stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about" bollocks.

I went home feeling guilty because I hadn't said anything to her, for fear of the same treatment.

Also: my parents had a visit from social services when I was 3 because I ended up in hospital twice in a week as a result of 'falls'... I was a clumsy child, honest.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:57, Reply)
totally awesome parenting

(I've posted this before, but I think it's worth looking at twice)
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:53, Reply)
Who really cares? I got into my university!
My dad thought it'd be funny to wave a knife around in my face. I backed away. He managed to accidentally slice open my hand.

He denies it when I bring it up.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:50, Reply)
I love my mum!
Back in the seventies I was pulled over by the police on the M4 and escorted home... after being found driving a go-kart bought by my father and encouraged to play with on the road by my mother because "the pathway was too small". I was five years old at the time.

My mother bought my older brother a second-hand bicycle which had no seat on it, no brakes and a flat tyre (My father told her that it was too dangerous but she always got her own way). She then asked my brother to go up to the shop to get some bread... He came back with a broken nose and a missing tooth.

My mother is fitting into the role of "grandmother" very well, she's already tried to suffocate my baby niece by sticking a plastic bag over her face (her excuse was she had just left it there for a minute whilst she sorted out the rest of her shopping bags... which obviously was much more important than her grand-daughter's need for oxygen). My sons are presented every birthday/christmas with toys that make Mattel look like the pioneers of child safety (I'm just waiting for a box of Lidl steak knives with detachable handles).

My mother also enjoys walking my eldest son into bollards and lamp posts whilst pushing my youngest son (in his pushchair) into the path of on comming traffic - hence why I don't let her near my kids anymore.

Mums like this are one in a million... thankfully.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:48, Reply)
Oldie but a goodie
When pestered by a kid to buy an ice cream from a passing van, tell the kid, "They only play the music when they've run out".
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:46, Reply)
Terrible great-grandparenting
This one doesn't refer to me, but my grandmother. When she was growing up in Liverpool, they lived in real poverty - four kids to a bed, no food, leaving school at 11, that sort of thing. So their main 'treat' during the year was the trips to Blackpool their father took them on.

Unfortunately, their father was an alcoholic. He would take them to Blackpool, walk them into a police station and tell the policemen that he'd found the children roaming the streets. He would then head down to the pub for the next 6 hours and spend the money saved to treat his children to a nice day out, before coming back to the station at the end of the day and reclaiming his children. This happened often enough that the police got to recognise him, but they kept accepting the 'lost' children. I think they realised that if they looked after the kids, they'd at least get fed and looked after, whereas otherwise it was sitting on the pavement outside the pub all day.

Quite depressing really!
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:43, Reply)
Advertising works
In the Metro Centre, Gateshead, I saw a couple trying to decide which drink to buy from a vending machine for their toddler. I overheard the following exchange which just goes to show the power of advertising on dumb parents and left me shaking my head in disbelief:

Father: We should get Ribena Toothkind
Mother: Ribena Toothkind?
Father: Aye, it's just like normal Ribena but it's kinder to teeth.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:43, Reply)
Teacher Parents
One evening when I was 11 I was playing on my skateboard at a friends house. Trying tricks that were way beyond me I fell awkwardly on my arm and knew straight away things were wrong. Off I went home and told my parents, who being both teachers and seeing this sort of thing all the time, grabbed my wrist pulled it one way, then the other, causing me to scream in pain, and told me to stop being such a drama queen and go to bed. The next morning after one of the longest nights of my life I found I couldn't hold my spoon to eat my cornflakes. According to them I was procrastinating as I didn't want to got to school. At school that day I couldn't hold a pen and was sent to the nurse. She was obviously from the same stock as my parents as she gave me a pathetic bandage on my wrist which did nothing but cause me more pain. This continued for two more days until I was reluctantly taken to hospital by my dad, who moaned all the way. This confirmed what I knew all along, that I had a nasty break across my forearm and had to be in plaster for six weeks.

Just to top this, the next week my mum gave all my beloved Star Wars figures away to a jumble sale.

Where were social services?

(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:31, Reply)
re Legless & Chlamydia below....
There's a gag about a daughter being called Chlamydia in this


Wasn't supposed to come true
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:27, Reply)
Random inconsistent behaviour
When my parents went to the pub, my mum was left in the car with me and Dad would bring out several whiskeys for her and coke (paper straw) for me. I guess the irresponsible bit was when he drove home 5 or so pints later.

At the age of 17 my parents bought me a dress to wear and then refused to let me out wearing it (they were present at the purchase).

Also around that age I was occasionally allowed to go on coach parties to clubs until 3:30am but was not allowed to stay out passed 11:30pm if going out locally

Some years later they asked me and my boyfriend to go and check on their house on the way back from holiday with them (separate beds of course even though we lived together) only to shout at us later for daring to be there alone and unwed.

I'm cheggars at the moment so looking forward to inflicting my own random acts of nonsense.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:25, Reply)
Bouncy Castle
We used to visit theme parks with my mums's 3 friends & their kids when I was young. My mum's best friend Viv was looking after us all on the bouncy castle while my mum & the other two mums went off roller skating. When the ride was done, Viv duly handed back all our shoes to us as we came off the ride. Unfortuantely for her she ended up with a pair of shoes but no child to put in them.
She realised in horror that it was my younger brother (3 at the time) who'd gone walkabout just as my mum & mates returned from the roller rink. According to my mum, Viv was white as a sheet and gabbling apologies when mum pointed out that my brother was stood behind her just a few feet away. Viv's expression at that moment is still something that reduces my mum to giggles whenever she tells the story.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:24, Reply)
This Came Up A While Ago
Several months back I wrote a blog entry about a couple of Chavs I'd bumped into in my local town. I overheard them call their sprog by it's name.


I shit you not. So, I mentioned this on my blog and asked if anyone could beat this. I thought I was on to a winner until my mate, BarBitch, chipped in.

She works with young offenders and one of them had named their kid........ wait for it..........


(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:21, Reply)
It's all deliberate
As a parent I see it as my responsibility to be 'bad'.

I've attempted to cultivate a liking for Booze, spliffs and bad music in my son. (Tho' to be honest this is mostly to annoy his mother.)

And that's not counting the time he walked in on me fwapping at my computer.

And there's till plenty of time...
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:21, Reply)
My dad.....
....told me and my brother that toothpaste was poisounous if you swallowed it (my brother used to eat it)....I got so scared that I didn't clean my teeth for years...

Nice one dad!
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:18, Reply)
Is this a Madelene McCann reference?

Mod edit: Crikey! No! What is it with you people? :)
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:09, Reply)
I was served corn beef mash and stew on a regular basis. Now that is bad parenting. I bloody hated mash and stew!!! I was made to eat it!!!

Also if me and my brother where fighting in the car on the way home from my nans, my mum used to stop the car, tell us to walk and the drive off leaving us there!!! It was about 7-8 miles walk, I was about 10 at the time! but she did come back for us though! i did think on a few times she wasn't coming back!!

Nasty mummy!
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:03, Reply)
Forced football fan
On the train home the other day, a Chav mother had dressed her 2 yr old blonde offspring in the latest Newcastle football shirt. (Child is so small, Shirt comes down to ankles).

Now that not being cruel enough, mother has provided said child with matching gold hoop earrings, necklace and braclet. (Elizabeth Duke's finest...probably).

Then as part of final punishment to said blonde toddler. Made child get off at Sunderland station.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:02, Reply)
My parents
used to tell me that if I was bad they'd have me picked up by the knackers.

Now that doesn't mean what you think it means. You see, we lived close to a slaughterhouse (not as bad as it sounds) and the lorries from the local knackery used to come in to pick up the bits left over after the butchers were finished.

I used to be terrified of these lorries. Scarred me for life.

I have never yet been picked up by the knackers, I'm glad to say.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 10:00, Reply)
I'm a parent - there's time for me to wreck his head yet..

Oh, I used to be given cod liver oil. A lot...
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 9:59, Reply)
So many stories......
......but for starters, once me and my sister were fighting over a book ( the title of which escapes me) and my dad stormed into our room. "Arguing over books?" he bellowed, "Thats obscene!" - then picked up the nearest object to hand, which happened to be a massive childrens bible, and chucked it hard across the room. It hit the wall next to me, missing my head by about 2cm.
The irony was lost on my dad, but not me and my sister who sniggered silently once he had stormed outta the room.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 9:57, Reply)
My mummy
I just told my mum how I got into the Uni of my choice and also made the "best" page of the QOTW.

Bitch only cared about the Uni.

That's terrible parenting.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 9:54, Reply)
more like terrible babysitting
my friend lucy was babysitting her 2 year old niece. she took her for a walk. the little girl was screaming and so lucy picked her up to cuddle her.

much to her mingled annoyance and mortification, the little girl's howls and sobs increased in volume and she was purple in the face. only when she set her down again did lucy remember she was still holding a fag. and notice that yes, there was a small, glowing, circular burn on the poor child's arm....

the other thing is, of course, at that age they can talk. which means, busted.

i also found this out in tesco the other day. i normally like (other people's) kids but the one in front of me looked like a cross eyed piglet. and he wouldn't stop STARING. so i stuck my tongue out at him.

at which point he started hiccoughing and sobbing, "mum mum mummeeeee. the bad lady pulled faces at meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

shit shit shit!

fortunately the mother was too distracted to care. but god, i normally only have that effect on grown men...

oh yeah, traditional swanking about first post.
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 9:50, Reply)

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