Nuffnang

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

The Workaholic has a few words on parenting...

Or possibly, how to get rid of unwanted friends...

OK, a while ago I mentioned the friend with the son who is a terrible bully and how the Workaholic Hubby wants them banned from the house.  You can read it here.

So anyway, they dropped in out of the blue over the weekend.  The Workaholic sat on the lounge and gave a very good impression of ignoring their arrival and visit until, he started hearing what was being said to the Little Man in the playroom (I was in the kitchen with the parents).  He went in said something to the kids that I couldn't hear and then slammed into the kitchen and sat down announcing he had something to discuss with them.  I looked at him, realised it was futile trying to intervene and turned back to the coffee machine.

He proceeded to tell them how to fix their problem child.  He does this.  He thinks he can fix everyone's problems or their mental health issues and honestly believes it is his duty to do so!  I should point out at this point his lack of qualifications for this role.

Firstly he is a builder. Not a psychologist.

Secondly he comes from a family whose family portrait you would expect to see in the dictionary as the definition of "dysfunctional".

Thirdly he has completely abdicated his parenting duties to me and if he somehow does find himself in charge, the situation is similar to what happened here this morning when I stayed in bed for about 40 minutes longer than he and the two boys.  In that 40 minute period, the lounge in the playroom was drawn on, with blue crayon (a lot of blue crayon), the wall in the office (which is a child free zone) was drawn on with pink texta, weetbix was consumed out of the kitchen and smeared (and left for me to discover) into the playroom carpet, a can of lemonade was removed from the fridge by the Munchkin, dropped repeatedly, taken to the Workaholic in the lounge room to open for him, which he did and this just the stuff I know about and it was only 40 minutes!

Anyway, it was him telling them about their little shit of a son, them staring open mouthed in disbelief and me avoiding the whole thing by making coffees and frothing milk.

Eventually they came out of their state of shock and got rather angry, gathered up their child and belongings and stormed out.

He turned to me, said "Problem fixed, they won't be back" and wandered back to the lounge to watch TV.

Now guess who is going to have to deal with the fallout from this little episode?

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