The following is a public service announcement. It may or may not apply to you.
Disciplining your children is the right thing to do. I don’t care what method of discipline you use (just don’t beat up on the kids please), but make sure it is effective and you do it consistently.
Some of your children may as well have been extras in “The Children of the Corn”. Does the name Damien mean anything to you? Yes, your children. Your adorable little progeny can make Satan himself say “damn, you got some bad azz kids”.
There was no need for little Billy to be rummaging around in my shopping cart at the grocery store yesterday. When I asked him to stop, he looked at me like I was a mosquito annoying him. He’s too young to be able to give that look to people. Then he had the nerve to take MY stuff out of MY cart and put it on the floor. I got rude then, and he just looked at me like “ok, aaannndd?”. That’s not cute, people. His azz needs some kind of discipline. When I was that age, my mother had put the fear of God and grown people in my heart so when I did something f**ked up and a grown person gave me that look, it was over. Little Tasha acted right. That’s what proper discipline does. Remember, you’re his parents, not his playdates.
A few weeks ago, at the mall, your wonderful kind hearted teenage daughter, Emily (I saw her name on her shirt), got in my way and I said “excuse me”. She really shouldn’t have said “Bitch, who you talkin’ to like that? I’m not moving”. I know, she’s exerting her independence by saying that, right? Is that what your little psychology “how to raise your kids” book says? Look, I don’t give a damn about a book. A rusty azz teenager should know by now that you don’t talk to adult people like that. After all, we sign her lil measly paycheck from that part-time job you let her get. If you’d disciplined her azz instead of trying to be her best gotdamned friend her whole life, I wouldn’t be telling you this right now. And maybe she wouldn’t be driving your car without your permission right now. Yeah, I overheard her talking to her friends about that.
Oh, and don’t forget your super college graduate son, Steven. He’s older than me and is moving back home because he didn’t feel like finding a job after graduation and he thinks his landlord is mad at him. He borrowed your Benz and totalled it when he got behind the wheel after a few too many Martinis, but he didn’t say sorry. I know you think that he was too shocked to show any remorse, but he really doesn’t give a damn because he knows that he will face no repercussions from you. Oh, and he also killed my childhood best friend in that crash. I know it might seem like he’s so torn up, but he was laughing at her funeral because he knew that he was going to happy hour that night. You’d make sure to protect him from any legal troubles. After all, that’s your boy, and what does discipline have to do with anything right?
Allow me to end my PSA with this: Discipline your kids, or I might have to. I don’t have a problem cussing your dear darling children out and telling them about themselves. Nor do I have a problem embarassing a grown azz man who had no boundaries growing up. Oh, and tell little Billy if he puts his lil fat fingers in my shopping cart again that Christmas will be cancelled.
**Lawd, kids irritate the hell out of me sometimes!**