Don’t raise a kid who is an asshole

​I swore I wasn’t going to do this. But against my better judgement, I gave in. I was supposed to have written this months ago, but instead I’m writing this today.

Not long ago, we were graced with the presence of a bad child. Felly. In my life I’ve met and dealt with a number of children. However, I can honestly say that I didn’t completely know how to deal with this one. The most ill-mannered, annoying child I’ve ever met. 

Flashback: Mom went mu cyaro to visit and came back with this little girl (her mother was sick). Clo was her name. The little girl was an annoying crybaby. She knew how to get on one’s last nerve. She was extremely clingy. Wherever one went, she went. She never let one leave her sight. And pretty soon you would get so sick and tired of having a tail to you that you eventually just cracked… and hit her. She would scream! But because she was always crying and everyone knew about her; whenever they heard her crying, they thought “Ooh there she goes again!” 

I used to say that I never wished to have a child like Clo. The naughty little girl who was always crying. Whenever she cried, I thought “That kid is just being a brat!” As a child, I was curious about how her mother managed when she was a baby. She must have been that crying baby that never let the mother rest that she had bags under her eyes. I hated her. But then I was a kid who didn’t understand another kid who was just behaving differently. 

Now that I’ve grown up and that I’ve met terrible Felly (thanks to her, I’ve learnt to appreciate Clo), I realize that Clo was never even a bad kid. For real. She did a few bad things because everyone makes mistakes, but for the most part, she was a good kid (minus the crying of course).
Felly is a bad kid, and her mother knows this. One time when my mom and I were visiting, Felly wanted to come over at our place. Her mother couldn’t let her and she was giving us a brief perception about how her daughter behaves, saying she is stubborn, blablaa… And we thought she exaggerated (you know how parents complain about their children but praise other people’s children?) But we were in for a big surprise. 

We thought everyone should be allowed to be stubborn (and annoying) at different points of their life, especially when they aren’t even old enough to understand how stubborn they are being. But Felly is not just stubborn, she is mouthy, selfish, rude, defiant, ill-mannered, and violent. But it wasn’t until she came over that we realized that she truly is all of those things.
The evening she came home, she was doing pretty good, except that she was talking more than we could listen. I gave her a 5 out of 10 (because she kept asking questions).
Here’s the interesting part…the next morning, as soon as she woke up, she came alive like a diabolical creature, hell-bent on destroying the house and wrecking everyone’s nerves. She tried to wake me up. Wow, a total brat! I wanted to snap her neck, in a Damon Salvatore style. My patience began to wear off and that’s where the true test of me standing her began. The 5/10 rating suddenly rose to 10/10. My mom heard her and told her not to wake me up (you don’t wanna see my morning face! Hehe)

She was sneaky, moving into every room just to feed her curiosity (I had to hide all my stuff). It was a damn nightmare. She was deliberately roughhousing. Felly took perverse pleasure in breaking rules. She could not follow instructions from anyone.

The other fly in the ointment for me was that she put on my shoes with her dirty feet. She had been walking around with the feet bare. Then she was trying on every pair of shoes in the house ― mine, mom’s, even dad’s ― with her filthy feet. Asked to remove the shoes, she refused. I froze for a few seconds, weighing my next move. Felly is out of control.

I was struggling with wanting to lay my hands on her. Well, I couldn’t because she is sick. She has this sickness that I didn’t quite understand well. Or it’s some witchy voodoo (I really don’t know. And that could excuse her behaviors, maybe a little bit).

Reacting in an unfit manner was the token of the brattiest behavior. She is, in truth, a very unpleasant child. So unbelievably difficult to deal with.

Let’s say that she grows up (I can tell) she’ll have serious problems later in life. She’s growing up to be an out-of-control adult.
I recall that when I was growing up, all of the adults in the neighborhood had permission to discipline us whenever we misbehaved. Back then there was a shared sense of right and wrong and a real sense of responsibility for the children next door. Unfortunately, you don’t see that very much anymore. Today, you’re not supposed to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. What other people’s kids do is nobody else’s business. So, why open that door?
Well, every parent owes it to the world to teach their children manners. This bears repeating; every single parent owes it to the world to teach their children manners. Good manners are a way of life. A lasting education. It’s one of your jobs as parents. Manners matter. Period.
So how did we deal with the obnoxious kid we couldn’t handle? We didn’t. That’s her parent’s job. We just let her live it up until we took her back home.

Well if I could rate her bratty behavior on a 1-10 scale, I would give her 63 (since she doesn’t have ANY redeeming qualities).


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