I was at the pick-and-mix sweets section in a supermarket when I witnessed something that nearly ruined my entire day.
A little boy turned to his mum and asked, “Can I have some sweets?”
His mum replied, “Well, you’ve been such a good little helper and helped Mummy with the cleaning, so you can have 100 grams.”
The little lad carefully selected his sweets, using the little scoop to place them one by one into a bag. When he was satisfied, he handed it to his mum and asked, “Is that about right?”
She weighed the bag and said, “That’s a little over 100 grams.”
Without hesitation, the boy offered, “You can take some of the chocolate ones out.”
His mum smiled and said it didn’t matter if he had a little extra.
And off they went, leaving me standing there, picking out sweets for myself and silently cursing parents like that.
You know the type. Parents who insist on bringing their impeccably behaved little angels out in public, just to rub everyone else’s noses in it.
It’s bad enough having to witness such nauseating displays of perfect parenting. But they really know how to twist the knife when your own teenager is a little Satan-spawned bastard who couldn’t hit the toilet if he were standing inside it.
A teenager whose bedroom requires a hazmat suit, industrial sandblasting equipment and possibly a team of specialists from Chernobyl before anyone dares to enter.
Honestly, would these bloody people just stay at home instead of parading their perfect little offspring around in public, showing off and making the rest of us feel like complete failures as parents?