THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENEDWednesday morning, and the quiet despair of the doctor's waiting room. Each and every one of us flipping through old magazines, lost in our own particular illnesses and injuries that have brought us all to this place at this particular time.
Peace reigns, broken only by the ping of the electronic noticeboard as - one-by-one - we are summoned into the consulting rooms.
And then: All this shattered as a family with three young children burst into our solitude and take over the waiting room in an explosion of shouting, running and "Have you brought your spellings? We can do your spelling while we're waiting."
The very worst: Posh kids. Posh kids with parents who actively encourage them.
You know where you are will feral little tykes. You expect the worst. But with posh kids, they don't even know they're being annoying, and neither do the parents.
They make their way to the toys in the corner of the waiting room, and with a great deal of banging and crashing around the Fisher Price play kitchen, which - truth be told - was genuinely beginning to harsh my mellow, launched into the cook-something-for-mummy-and-daddy routine.
"Mummy!" shouts one of the anti-feral kids, "Can I cook you something?"
"Why, yes, Oliver. I'll have a tall skinny decaff latte*, and then a salmon and goat's cheese bagel with seasonal leaves and a low-fat mayonnaise dressing."
SHE ACTUALLY SAID THAT THING.
"And daddy? What do you want?"
"Yeah. Tea. Two sugars an' a splash. An' a sausage sandwich."
Perhaps, then, there is hope for these poor children.
* Yes, she actually asked for a latte. I am not making this up
12 comments:
Did you sick in a hedge?
and what's wrong with my asking my child for a latte.
Anon: The child clearly had no official Barrista training
Hope the rash clears up, Alistair.
They were probably there to get vaccination shots ahead of their three week Easter trip to Bali. Tossers.
As mum to an autistic child who is obsessed with armpit pumps and the contents of his own nose, this has cheered me right up. I live amongst these evil tossers and often have to physically stop myself from tripping them up on the school run when they're laden with violins; costumes for drama club and certificates of excellence in latte-making.
I turn this to my advantage to frighten strangers. Simply invent posh children and shout loudly, "Come quickly darling, Tarquin has just mastered the cello and Elisabeth has devised a ballet to go with it - and they're only five"
Can't help thinking the dad's favourite song is "uptown girl" by Billy whatsisface.
Aaargh,f..king captcha again. What's that letter that looks like a backwards capital B?
Oh FFS, I'm gonna start screen capping these and creating my own blog, Whente what???
How can you object to this behaviour? They are HONOURING you with their display of superiority. You must listen and learn from them.
Shoot me now, for I have been surrounded by these people lo, these many years.
Join in enthusiastically with the 'spelling' game, giving them increasing difficult words which are pronounced totally differnt from their spelling, viz
Featherstonehaugh
Cholmondeley
Ghoti (pronounced Fish) ;-)
I'm totally with you on posh children but I got stuck at the number ticker in the doctor's office. I keep imagining a crowded DMV filled with grumpy people who don't want to be there.....but now they're super sick too. Hahahahaha! That cheered me up!
FFS Duck, you missed out the important bit - red sauce, brown sauce or no sauce at all?
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