B**ST OFF!

What possesses a dad to wear a “F**K OFF” Tee shirt to a children’s party?

I see this sort of thing all the time and everywhere too – in MacDonald’s, on the street, even on the school run. Children can read after a certain point, don’t these “adults” care? what is going on?

It forces parents like me to answer questions we’d rather put off until a bit later, when the kids are more “ready” to cope with the “truth”.

Although I just do not “get it”, I suppose we all just have to learn to live with this stuff, and graffiti too, but sometimes it goes too far.

graffiti outside nurseryOne day, for example, my son spotted the new graffiti right outside his nursery. It was a massive cock-and-balls spray painted on the wall.

“Mummy?” He enquired, pointing from his pram, “Mum – what’s that?”

“What’s what, darling?”

“THAT?” he shouted, pointing at the graffiti.

“OH, THAT? Well, it’s a rocket, isn’t it? A space rocket! Blasting off! Look at the clouds of smoke from the blast-off!” announced my quick-witted wife.

“Wow,” said the little voice from the pram, “Booo-ooo-ooom!”

However, later, when she called back to collect him, the nursery leadership asked if they could have “a word” about the boy’s behaviour. Apparently he had spent all that morning drawing and colouring in cock-and-balls, much to their horror.

My wife explained that it had been too early in the morning to get into a discussion about genitalia, graffiti, sex, and all that; she hadn’t had her coffee yet, and that it was all their fault for failing to cover-up, or remove, the graffiti outside. She shrugged, dismissively, and turned sharply to leave.

But as she walked through the class toward her son in his pram, she realised that it had really caught on, that all the other kids had copied him all morning, and the entire nursery was covered in dozens of garish cock-and-balls drawings, paintings and collages.

Her cheeks coloured as she increased her pace to get away from this madness, imagining a lynch mob of parents arriving later in the night, waving pitchforks and garish, childish pictures of cock-and-ball space rockets.

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