I’ve just come back from a long weekend camping in Somerset, which for the large part was brilliant, except for some of the kids being the proverbial pain-in-the-ass. Don’t you just hate people who don’t keep their kids in line, leaving you to do their dirty work for them?
I know we all have different standards, but come on – a modicum of respect should be instilled into everyone surely?
Spotting the cause
But then you look at the parents, or more accurately, you listen to the parents. Drawing conclusions from just their looks, I will admit can be a bit shallow, and can be a bit off the mark.
Listen, that’s the best way, listen to the way they speak to their kids, and each other for that matter. I’m not talking about the parents who talk in three letter words, and think the word ‘lavatory’ is big and fancy (although it often includes them). It’s the uncontrolled shouting and swearing AT their kids (not just within earshot like me) – and then the bad behavior and lack of respect that they themselves generally set the standard for. There is little wonder their offspring are tearing around like hyenas on acid.
Water pistol brat child
The bad behavior on our weekend camping holiday started pretty much straight away, as two little brats came loitering around the front of our tent squirting each other (and us) with water pistols. This is where it started, my transition into ‘Helga’.
“Could you go and play somewhere else please?”
In one mind I was thinking – if you don’t stop that you ferial vermin, I’m going to throw it down the chemical toilet waste disposal point. Ha, that would have taught them!
Eventually, I must admit, after me shouting at them various times over the next 24 hours the father stepped in and re-affirmed to his kids that their behavior was out of order. A bit late, but better late than never.
Parents setting a bad example
Once we’d solved one unruly sprog problem, another one arrived on Saturday as a big family turned up and pitched up opposite us. If I was going to judge them on looks, I would have been able to tell straight away. But it was the behavior that set them apart – not really the kids, the parents.
They continued to play ball games in our space, and nearly hit babe with a cricket ball at one point – and that was one of the parents! Not the kids. And despite my protests and requests for them to move, I was ignored. It was a shame; because that was the last thing we were left thinking about. We came away feeling somewhat intimidated, but angrier than anything.
The ‘alpha’ male in hubby was fighting to be unleashed to put them in their place. But the more mature and restrained side kept a grip on things and calmly packed up and got out. My sister, who is known for standing her ground explained that should would have told them to “get the f*** off my pitch!” I love to hear what she has to say about these situations, it always makes me smile and feel a touch of remorse that I didn’t just tell them where to go.