Friday, 4 January 2013

Parental Testing.

I have failed my parents. All a parent wants is a nice child that grows into a respectable and successful adult. Well, they got me.

Since becoming an adult I've become more puerile and crap. I'm really pretty crap. I can't fix a single thing. Breaking things seems to come naturally but fixing things, arranging things, making things, helping things and not dropping things into a big fire have completely eluded me. Also, my job is rubbish. There's no stability in the comedy industry. Plus it's full of wankers who use phrases like "the comedy industry". It's not an industry. None of us pampered poodles have ever done a proper day's work in our lives. So, I'm childish and I don't really have a job. What have my parents got to be proud of when they look at me? I'm not a priest. That would have made my mum very happy. Especially if I was a priest who somehow married a nice Irish girl and had babies and was a doctor. She'd have loved that. My dad is slightly easier to please, he's delighted simply because I know Dave Gorman and the Indian man from The Chase. That said, he definitely thinks I should get a proper job and 2 children and learn to drive and sit up straight and wise up. He is, of course, completely right.

Do you ever feel a slap of guilt when going to your parents'? I do. They clearly love me but I'm not great. I could have just pretended that I wanted to stay in Newtownards and got a proper job and met a local woman and pretend to love her and buy a local house and pretend to love it and then have some local babies and pretend to love them and then my parents would be happy. And they'd later die happy thinking that I was happy and the joke would be on them because I was only pretending for 40 years! Ha ha! The twats.

My parents are good people and I think it's pretty normal to feel like a bit of a letdown. It doesn't feel nice though. But on my way to Belfast a couple of days ago I thought....hang on. What makes them think they're so bloody great at being parents? They haven't done any real parenting in nearly 30 years. My mum hasn't had to wipe food off my mouth in ages and my dad hasn't taken me to the park to play football (a game we both hate) since I was about 10. Yes, I know I'm a terrible son but, really, are these two any good at being parents anymore? I intend to find out.

I'm here in Newtownards for a few weeks and I'm planning on my parents parenting me. I want my dad to take me to see Star Wars and he HAS TO PAY, I want my mum to take me to the swimming pool and she HAS TO PAY AND STAY AND WATCH ME AND TELL ME HOW GOOD I AM and I want them to throw a birthday party for me and my friends. That means they have to phone my friends mums to ask permission, if they're still alive. I also fully intend stealing something from Page One, a local newsagent. I stole some books from Page One when I was about 6 and I completely got away with it. Sadly, my ego got the better of me. If I'd just stuck to books my parents wouldn't have noticed but I went completely over the top with crime-lust and stole a Star Trek jigsaw puzzle. My dad saw me doing the jigsaw and he turned into Columbo. Except Columbo never gave anyone the belt (my one and only time I ever got hit by my parents and I don't think anyone could argue with it. I mean, I did. I told them that Lee Gavin gave me the books and the jigsaw and the only reason I don't want to go to his house to confirm the fact is because his house is smelly. I mean, why didn't they believe that? Actually, the joke really is on my parents because I got the belt across the bum and it really stung and my mum then said to me "Go to bed. Say your prayers and ask God to forgive you". I was only 6 but this light went on in my head the second she said that. I thought "But God said he loved me. Why did he make my bum hurt? Hang on...GOD DOESN'T EXIST". And I haven't believed in God since. Stupid parents). I don't know what I'm going to steal from Page One but I WILL steal something. I'm just letting them know that now. And I'll avoid my second belting by confessing everything to my parents. Then I want my mum to take me back to Page One and say to the shopkeeper "My son has something to say to you" and I will apologise, completely learning a lesson. The lesson being: Have my parents still got it?

Of course, I'll try to be a good son most of the time. I'm planning on going to mass every Sunday while I'm here. But, just to test my parents, I will try to sneak out every time just like I did when I was young. If I get caught, then that's a skill point to them. I'm looking forward to this experiment. I hope it'll make for a good blog because that's definitely what it's about and NOT just a man in his forties having a breakdown. If you have any other ideas on how I can test my parents then please let me know. The experiment begins today. My mum's going to cut my hair.

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