Wait ’till your mother comes home, I’m a totally crap parent and I apologise to my children how for messing them up.

I try but I’m shit no two ways about it. It’s like I have to stand over my two constantly to stop them doing screeching at each other.

Some how my two make the same kind of noise as dry chalk down a board, it cuts right through me, really right through me. I have difficulty understanding what they say as well.

They also appear to be the neediest needers ever too. I would love it if I could let them discover the world on their tod, but the amount of irresponsible weirdo nutters there are here is astounding, even on a residential street like ours it’s difficult to let them out the front door to go to the corner shop. The cops scream down our road, sirens blaring every day, the gangsta beemer with low slung drivers speeding around. The Deep car audio terrorists sub woofers shaking the tarmac and the dreaded hijabi grans barely seeing over the steering wheel all yakking on mobiles, tearing over the speed bumps and ignoring the pedestrian crossing (thencops in range rovers are the worst, followed by hijabi grans – both law “abiding” citizens.

I haven’t got on to the dealers, the east European drunks, the the sharia watch partol and all the other groups of unreasonable tosspots, Weirdest bit of all is that the usual scallywags that get blamed, teenagers are the best of the bunch. They maybe stroppy little fucks but that haven’t learnt better yet and given what the adult role models are like around here, I’m not surprised.

So yup I’m a pretty bad parent and my kids will grow up to dislike and resent me… ho-hum at least I’ll have navigated them through London life they’ll be able to survive anywhere.

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