The story goes that this man, who has very British teeth - though I don't think we should hold that against him, has three children in their 30s and 40s. He thinks they turned out poorly, so he sent them an email telling them how badly they suck and how he and their mother don't want to hear from them again until they stop sucking.
Why? Because his friends brag about their kids and his kids have given him nothing to brag about. Way to go, dad! Way to show support and unconditional love!
From dad's email:
Nice word play. Copulation-driven cock-ups. +1 to dad.
From daughter's response:
Then why is he so disappointed?
I haven't been able to locate a story that tells what these kids do for a living, or how many kids they have, or exactly what about them is so horrible that their father felt the need to tear them apart.
I'm taking the kids' side in this one. And here's why...
I am one of many, many children in my family. I have always been the square peg, the perpetual fuck-up, the odd one out. I have made many a copulation-driven cock-up. I am the one who's never been married (I know... everyone refers to my dreaded ex as my ex-husband... he was never my husband... it's just easier to let it slide than correct people all the time). I am the one who bore children out of wedlock. I am the one who struggled for years before settling into an actual "career". I am the one who - once upon a time - changed boyfriends like underpants.
Every family dinner, there would be a new man. My brother referred to them as my "flavors of the month".
The guy with the tattoos, the guy with the piercings, the guy in the wheelchair, the guy who refused to go outside to smoke, the vegan, the openly bisexual, the high school drop-out, the grad student, the alcoholic, the little rich boy, the guy who lived on other people's couches... I dated them all, and I brought them all home to meet my family.
Granted, this all came to a screeching halt when my kids were born. The serial dating stopped very quickly. I tend to move rather slowly and timidly in matters of the heart these days - and no one meets my children or my family without months and months of dedication.
But that's veering from the topic at hand. My point here is that of ALL the children my parents raised, I'm the defective one. I'm the work-in-progress. To me, this says the problem wasn't with the parenting, but with the child. A 90% success rate isn't bad. Cheers to my parents for their ability to churn out functioning adults. They have always been there for me - they've listened as I've unloaded my frustrations time and again. They've given advice that I've rarely taken. Through the years, I've had to move back in to their house twice (once for a year, once for a month). They've watched me climb the proverbial ladder, fall on my face, dust myself off, and climb it again... over and over and over. But they've always been there. The door has always been open. There is a standing invitation that will prevent me from ever being homeless as long as they're alive. No matter how much I copulate, no matter how many cocks-up are involved, they've got my back (granted, it might come with forced church attendance, but sometimes that's a small price to pay for a bed to sleep in and something to eat).
This British man, however, is apparently 0 for 3. Maybe he should spend some time examining how he raised his children and less time belittling them for their failures in life.
Having children of my own, I worry constantly about how they're going to turn out in the end. I can only hope that I'm doing something right. Right now, they tell me they want to be a scientist and a veterinarian... but maybe they'll grow up to be heroin-addicted prostitutes popping out fetal alcohol babies and wracking up therapy bills. I have no way of predicting that. I can only do what I feel is right and hope for the best.
It seems my post has turned from a short rant to a short novel, so I'll shut up for a moment and wait for responses. Who is to blame for the shortcomings of this man's children? Is anyone to blame? Was it a group effort? Was dad in the right or did he cross a line? Could Midol have prevented this situation?
TL;DR: There is none. Stop being a whiny bitch and read the damned post.