Friday, October 7

Appreciate your parents

There comes a time in the life of everyone who writes this sort of material when they must reconcile with themselves the fact that their parents are going to read their stuff. It happened to Maddox, it happened to Bunny, and now it's happened to me. I think my mom's exact words were, "As a mother, I'm mortified." However, she followed that with, "but the writing is really good, and I'm proud to see what a good writer you've become." Although I have conflicted feelings about my mother reading this blog (do I continue with my filthy language and stories and stay honest to the mood or do I clean it up now that I know my audience entails my mother?), I'm very happy that my mom at least was able to look past the facade of the ADI and see that it's just me ranting away and adopting a voice that's not necessarily mine. As such, the following post is dedicated to my parents:

"I don't want to eat my vegetables!" "When will you be back?" "There's a monster in my closet!" "Are we there yet?" "Why are boy parts different from girl parts?" "I hate you!"
Although I don't have any kids (that I know of), parents have to deal with a lot of stupid shit from their progeny. The problem with today's youth is that they don't appreciate all the different kinds of hell they put their parents through. As such, I advise every parent to adopt the same attitude I do: be an asshole to people so they'll like you that much more when you're nice to them. Let's see how the above statements should be answered so you don't have to deal with a bunch of crap from your kids:
"I don't want to eat my vegetables/dinner!" This is an easy one to take care of. Simply answer your kids, "Well, mommy put a lot of time and effort into making this food, and if you don't eat it she'll die." This ought to shut them up. If you say it with a completely serious and concerned expression on your face, the initial shock value will be enough to wipe that bitchy little whine off their faces. With any luck, they'll start shovelling food into their mouths so fast that they won't have time to complain about food you spent a lot of time preparing. However, this doesn't work on some kids, and if you continue using this line you'll eventually lose the element of surprise. That's when you have to kick your game up a notch. If your kids remain resolute about not eating their veggies, then you should get a pained expression on your face, clutch your chest, pretend to have a heart attack and fall over onto the ground. To make it realistic, don't move at all. Don't even move when they're crying over your motionless body. As I always say, "Tears wash away the brattiness". If you don't think that you can pull off lying motionless on the floor while your kids cry, then you should have a friend burst in the door wearing a hockey mask at a predetermined signal. Have them fire a blank gun at you or pretend to stab you with a retractable knife before they run back out the door. Your kids will be too busy screaming to notice you convulsing with laughter on the floor.
"When will you be back?" Another easy fix. Whenever your kid asks you this, simply crouch down to their level, put a hand on their shoulder, and say with a completely serious face, "Daddy's not coming back ever again." Then walk out the door without so much as a backward glance. It may seem cruel, but any guilt you feel will quickly be eradicated by the joy your kids express when you come home at night. Again, the shock value of this might wear off, so you should probably spend some nights away from home just to keep them on their toes. Plus it'll give you a nice vacation.
"There's a monster in my closet!" This is probably the easiest and most fun little kid-ism to fix. The next time they wake you up and tell you that there's a supernatural predator in their closet, act really scared. Grab them by the shoulders, slap a hand over their mouth, and say "Shut the hell up! If you keep calling me in here, you're only going to wake it up and piss it off!" Then throw a worried look toward the closet and run out of the room. Make sure you turn the light off and slam the door shut when you do. If you really want to drive the point home, run all the way to your car, start it up and screech out of the driveway onto the street. After that, floor it and drive to the nearest motel. Spend the night there and watch porn while you raid the mini-bar to drown any guilty sentiments you might have. This should guarantee you a few nights of good sleep while your kids sit up in their beds clutching a baseball bat. If they start to get wise to your antics, you should probably hide a small stereo with some growling noises recorded at random intervals on a cassette tape in their closet. That way they'll be too scared to come wake you up in the middle of the night. This will ensure that you get the rest you need to go to work and earn enough money to pay for their therapy sessions.
"Are we there yet?" The next time your kid asks you this in the middle of a long car ride, just say "Yep!", slam on the brakes and usher them out of the car. It doesn't matter where you are. You could be in the middle of the freeway. You could be in downtown Harlem. If your damn kids can't make the entire car trip without making a noise, then they don't deserve to be in the car. Drive off without them and don't give them a second thought.
"Why are boy parts different from girl parts?" Every parent has to face a question like this sooner or later. If they ever ask you, just tell them that everyone has different parts because everyone's different. If they push the subject, just look them in the eye and say, "If you ever see, talk about, or touch boy/girl parts, you'll die and go straight to hell with the witches and vampires." Then make the sign of the cross, mutter something in Latin, and leave the room. Kids should learn about this shit in school or by watching porn, not from their parents. A lot of hippies nowadays will tell you that kids need to have sex put into context by loving parents who tell them what goes where, teach them about safety, show them videos of their honeymoon, etc. etc. blah blah blah. Fuck that. No one wants to talk about sex with their kids, and if you don't want to do something then you shouldn't do it. End of story.
"I hate you!" Every kid says this to their mom or dad now and then. No matter when it happens, whether your kid be six or sixteen, you should say the same thing: I hate you right back and twice as much. Tell them they were an accident. Tell them that you tried to sue Trojan because of them. Tell them that they ruined your life because you can't have any fun anymore due to a little snotrag running around being ungrateful. It might seem mean, but hey, they started it. Besides, it'll make an "I love you" that much more potent.
Every kid needs to realize how good they have it. Why should they get to do whatever they want while you go to work all day to provide them with food and toys? The hell with that. Raise your kids right. Remember the three Bs - Beating, Berating, and Humiliation (ok, so the last one starts with an H. Fuck you for caring). Kids should always obey and appreciate you; after all, you earned it.

Make them bring you a drink.



(I love you, Mom and Dad)
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2 Bullshit Responses:

Anonymous Anonymous left the following bullshit...

ADI rocks my socks off. Keep em' coming.

9:33 AM  
Blogger Matt left the following bullshit...

Hello!

I am contacting you because I am working with the authors of a book about blogs, and I'd like to request permission to use a photograph of yours in this book. Please contact me at matt@wefeelfine.org, and I'd be happy to give you more information about the project. Please paste a link to your blog in the subject field. Your assistance is greatly appreciated.

Sincerely,

Matt
matt@wefeelfine.org

10:53 AM  

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