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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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Shit Parenting = Dickhead Kids.
Sorry-bit epic this one.

Tom and I went to primary school and secondary school together, and even ended up at the same Uni and even now live just one bus stop away from each other, so we are both pretty much honorary members of the others family.

Tom's big brother was always a twunt, he'd constantly have his friends around, and whenever I was at Tom's residence my friend and I would find ourselves spending most our time locked in Tom's bedroom, as whenever we left we risked our heads being shoved down the toilet/being locked outside in the rain/ having the shit kicked out of us. You've gotta love upper middle class kids eh?

Big Bro being the massive cunt he was left home at 17, much to everyones relief and he and Tom didn't speak for a long time after that, besides, his parents had always wished I was their son instead. But this story is not about those parents, oh no, this is about Big Brother Joe himself and his horrible bastard little girl.

Last December Tom gets a lettter from his brother, assuming it to be the usual stiff, impersonal "To Tom, Merry Christmas from Joe" he recieves every year he sighs as he opens it and, is very surprised to find his brother has invited Tom and Myself down to his house for Christmas/ New Year week!

We arrive there to find Joe a broken man, quiet with bags under his eyes his swagger had become a slow shuffle and it didn't take long to realise why- Old Wifey is an absolute bitch. We are greeted with a smarmy "Can you take your shoes of please this was a very expensive carpet (fake laugh) thank goodness for Christmas bonuses eh?" (forced smile.)

I did the maths instantly.Absolute bitch of a mother and a whipped ex-yob for a Father- I am not looking forward to meeting The Daughter. And rightly so.

I've never hated anyone more than Little Rosie, and she was eight when I met her. Shed make random demands in the middle of the day to anyone within earshot. "Muuummy! I want an Appletiser. Buy me an Appletiser!"

"Uncle Tooom I need some lipstick"
Tom looked bemused before asking "Why?"
"oh my God are you STUPID?!!! So that Bernard Steel will go out with me. YOU DUMB FUCK?!!"
This shit I could manage. This was just spoilt child, I could deal with it. But there was more. A gentleman came calling at the house one day, selling something or canvassing the area I assume. Little Rosie answers the door and shouts "HOW DARE YOU KNOCK HERE!" and slams the door in the gentlemans face.
"Why did you do that?" I asked.
"The cheek of a nigger to knock on my door!" She says shaking her head. The girl is 8 years old! I stare at mother expecting her o tell her daughter off, but all i get is a look of contempt! Now THAT is shit parenting.

The icing on the cake came when she demanded
"Get me a drink."
I glared at her. "Get it yourself."
She looks at me like I've just slapped her (If only)and runs out the room. A few minutes later Mother comes up and screams at me because Rosie claims she walked in on me having a wank!! Of course despite my vehement and logical denials (why would i choose to have a wank in the lounge while watching countdown) she had none of it and demanded Tom and I leave the next day. That woman is the reason you should have to have a license before having a baby.

However just before we're leaving Tom got sweet vengeance, Little Rosie comes to say goodbye to him on her own (i.e no mummy dearest present)
"Bye Uncle Tom."
"I'm not your Uncle."
"What?"
"And your parents aren't your real parents either. You're adopted. Probably from a black woman as well. Their kind are always having teenage babies arent they?"
Little Rosie is for once at a loss for words and begins to silently cry.
"Oh," continues Tom, "and you know that boy you wanted to look pretty for- Bernard Steel?"
"Yeah?"
"He probably thinks you're a fat bitch jutst like the rest of us do."
At this she starts bawling, Tom and I grab our suitcases and leave.

There is no sound sweeter than that of a crying child.

Apologies for length :)
(, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 20:29, Reply)

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