Putty In My Hands

One of the most enjoyable things about being a parent is the opportunity to really influence your childs growth. I'm not talking about physically, although if you wean em onto the ciggies at a young enough age you could stunt their growth (if you believe the anti-smoking crowd). I'm talking about mental growth.

Most responsible (make that conservative/republican parents) would seize this opportunity to teach their young ones, to nurture their ability to reason and to promote the benefits of paying attention in school and learning things that will be useful in later life. Not me. I prefer to mess with my kid. Not in a dirty pedo way. As illustrated in my previous post, there is no future in fiddling with the kids. It offers little in the way of reward and much aggravation if caught. If even a shadow of suspicion falls upon you, you are pretty much fucked for life. So, no, definitely not that, it just isn't my cup of tea. No, I mean messing with my kids mind. I don't do it in a cruel way. I'm not one of those emotional abuse fuckers who treats their kid like shit, degrading her and calling her a slag for wearing make up. She's only six, that will come later, when she gets a boyfriend. I merely try to impress on her the necessity of a sense of humour and to be silly, daft, talk shite and nonsense, to confuse those around you and blur the lines between reality and bullshit. Of course, being six, she doesn't quite get these concepts and probably just thinks I'm a lunatic. She will thank me someday.

I have invested a considerable amount of time in trying to convince her that if you fart and sneeze at the same time, you do an involuntary back flip. I have sat her down and shown her wrestling on TV and gymnastics in an effort to back up my argument, asking her if she heard them fart and sneeze before performing the backwards somersault. I have tried to demonstrate myself but despite having the silence and concentration needed for such a maneuver I have so far been unable to recreate the act. She isn't having it, unless she sees it with her own eyes.

I suspect that she is being advised by a classmate. There is a little girl in her class who thinks she fuckin knows it all. My kid came home from school one day and told Mrs.Waring that she knew how people get pregnant. There had been some discussion at lunchtime and this kid had told everyone that if you wanted to have a baby all you had to do was shave your arse. Had I been there I would have told her that this was indeed the truth, unfortunately I wasn't and Mrs.Waring poo poo'd it and told her it was a lie. I am tempted to contact this kids parents, not to complain but to congratulate them on a fine line of shite. This is inspired stuff.

For a while, every time I went for a shit I would squeeze the squeaker out of an old dog toy. The child was intrigued and over the course of a couple of months I was able to convince her that I had a squeak toy stuck up my arse. This kind of thing never gets old for me and I would still be doing it today if Mrs.Waring hadn't exposed me and confiscated the squeaker. She has this fear that my style of parenting will at some point backfire on us, and she may be right, but I'm proud of our daughter and the things she has learned so far:

1. People in wheelchairs are just lazy.
2. Rabbit cack tastes just like raisins.
3. Bald people got that way by holding their farts in too long.
4. If a dog marries a cat all their kids will born monkeys.
5. Don't fuck with the British.