This is the brief prologue to a kids book that I finished earlier this year. Please let me know if you’d like to see more.
Parents – I’m sure you’ll agree – are very different to you. They sprout hair in RIDICULOUS places. They shed hair in others. They have bizarre, flabby, bobbly bits that wobble about in slow motion when they run. They leave absolutely HORRENDOUS unspeakable stinks in the bathroom that make you GAG.
They cover the sink with bristles. They own hundreds of bottles of weird coloured liquids that they drink or swallow or inhale or stick up their bottoms. They smother their faces in gloopy cream that they think makes them look younger but in fact makes them look exactly the same age as before only smothered in gloopy cream. They definitely come from another planet – a pretty rancid one at that.
They are also contrary creatures. They say one thing and they do another.
They put you to bed early but stay up late themselves. They tell you to go easy on the sweets and then fill their fat faces with chocolate as soon as you’re not looking. They order you not to swear and then curse at the TV screen when Simon Cowell comes on. They demand you are careful with the pitiful amount of pocket money that they give you and then pack the house with stupid electronic gadgets or handbags or shoes that cost a large fortune.
This is the story of the worst parent of all time: the meanest, nastiest, smelliest, ugliest, sweatiest mother you could possibly imagine. Even worse than your own. And it’s the story of what she did to her son, who’s really very nice actually. Probably a lot nicer than you are.
If you ever think that you’re hard done by. If you’ve ever wished that you could trade your boring parents in or sell them on eBay or something you’re in for a shock. Because by the time you’ve gotten to know Felicity MacKenzie you’re going to think that you have the best parents in the world…