stupid children

What if you end up having stupid children?

The choices of your children may or may not be a direct reflection of your parenting, but even so, it is entirely possible that you could have done your job, properly, as an adult (ha!) and parent – sung to them in the womb, done positive emotional labour to maintain relationships, paid school fees, avoided the Disney Princess bubble fairy tales and veered towards the far more realistic Roald Dahl renditions – and then, regardless, they still come out stupid.

When I say stupid, I mean the dipshits who, for example, overlap in traffic casually as if no one else in the line behind them had anywhere better to go. Or those idiots who take their guns out in the club and wave them around, trying to pretend they’re striding across town in their big boy pants, running it from behind the crosshairs of a shotgun. Or, a watchman with a huge inferiority complex that manifests in an inability to listen to rhyme or reason, especially when you’re late, and especially when there’s a notebook with 56 columns to be filled in before you wind your way up to the fourth floor parking and then run down to the elevator, that doesn’t work, then run down the stairs to be even later and sweatier for your meeting that you had originally intended.

What if your kid is that guy?

Statistically, all these snobby smart folks are the minority, no? We’re always saying how we’re clearly outnumbered by the stupids. But WHAT IF YOU’RE CREATING THE STUPIDS?

Next week: Ugly babies.

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