The next generation? I hope not
When I was a kid, I don’t remember yelling at random grown-ups in the street. I played 40-40 in, curby and football.
Just recently J and I have been subjected to a bunch of grotty little maggot children shouting at us while we are out running.
Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not offensive things they’re shouting. They don’t swear, they don’t touch us (thank god) and they don’t do the annoying jog next to you.
In fact, they actually shout encouragement. Now this may sound pedantic but it’s not really, is it? They’re not shouting ‘go on you can do it’ to be nice. They’re looking for one of us to tell them to ‘fuck off’ so they can have a reason to be even more of a little shit than normal.
Now, I don’t know what their home life is like. Maybe they’re shouted at on a regular basis and this is their vent. Well this blog is mine. ‘So pipe down you absolute little knobs. We just want to run in peace without you sarcastically cheering us on.’
If I wanted sarcastic, patronising praise that someone doesn’t mean then I’d go on Jeremy Kyle and pass a lie detector test. Probably what most of the parents of these kids are doing while the next generation are out yelling at me in the street.
I don’t profess to have been the best child growing up. My parents were divorced before I hit 10 so I had the perfect excuse to be a gobshite. However, they raised me properly and I would have been threatened with having my mouth washed out with soap if I had.*
Next time I’ll have to take along a block of cheese to distract the vermin enough for me to jog by.
*My parents never washed my mouth out with soap.