You've got some nerve and baby that'll never do

Excuse the unmitigated spewing forth of bile and irritation. Just can't stand it anymore, hence an open letter:


Dear You,

Maybe I’m trying to hard. Maybe it was too much to ask that you spend some kid-time with Grizzlewick recently. But we’ve known each other a long time, and you have indicated in the past that you want a treasured status in his life.

Lord knows, he certainly doesn’t need any more toys, so I thought it would be nice for you to spend some time together, doing something that he would like to do, rather than the usual “drag Grizzlewick along to a café in the vain hope he’ll sit still for four hours while we ignore him” procedure that usually characterises our catch-ups.

I did try to warn you that if Mr Fix and I tagged along at your get-together that he would spend all his time pawing at us rather than enjoying your company. Funnily enough, that’s exactly what happened. I could have told you too, that taking him to a café for lunch where there were precisely two things on the menu that he would eat would result in some pfaffing about of monumental proportions.

Also, when he burst into tears because he lost sight of both of his parents unexpectedly, breezing past him muttering in a sing-song voice “Just ig-NORE him” is probably not the most caring thing you could have done. In fact, it’s the kind of thing that I might do, but I am his mother and not a person in his life from whom he should be able to expect spoiling and unconditional love no matter the circumstances and incredibly lax discipline whatever the weather. Dude – I’ve had taxi drivers pay more attention to my child than you did.

And you know how irritated you were, that there was a small group (say about three people, one of them five years old?) lagging behind by about three quarters of a block as we walked down the street? Best I can tell, there was nothing to stop you either a) slowing the hell down or b) offering to take Grizzlewick’s hand (or better still offer him a piggy-back ride) and making him feel included in what turned into your outing.

What’s more, I really don’t care to hear feedback via others that he was a little monster that day, or that his behaviour leaves anything to be desired. A little thought on your behalf could have made the day a whole lot smoother, and it’s not like you can say you weren’t warned.

In retrospect, this whole thing was a really bad idea. I hope you won’t mind if, as his mother, I restrict my child’s interaction with you. It’s just that I don’t think you’re a particularly good influence.

Kind Regards,

Gigglewick


******

Dear Gigglewick,

Enough with the social engineering. They’re just not that into you.

Gigglewick