Not My Words: Troubling Train Trip

by Iain Lowson

Today, a friend of mine took a trip from Edinburgh to London. He encountered on that trip a tearaway tyke and its truly terrible mother. He Facebook-ed the whole thing, blow by blow, destroying the working day for those who follow him. This is a story, full of blindness and entitlement, that is both very funny and deeply heart breaking. I've taken off the names, just in case.

I'm posting it because it's important to recognise astoundingly bad parenting when you see it (regardless of whether or not the poor kid has any diagnosed issues), and because (and are you listening, IDS?) entitlement on this scale is not the sole domain of the demonised 'scroungers' the papers keep telling us about.

Enjoy?

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"Middle class parents with a free range approach to patenting: when 100+ people are trying to get onto a train, with luggage and scalding coffee and your little M*** is running wild while you chat on the phone - it's entirely your fault when little M*** gets squashed, bumped, scalded, stood upon and then leaves the train. I'm going to be honest here, you're a bad parent. Oh and everyone else in the carriage thinks so too..."


"M*** just spilled an older gentleman's orange juice all over his Kindle. Mother: M***, darling. Don't do that. M*** proceeds to have tantrum. Mother placates child with Chocolate muffin. If it comes anywhere near me, I won't be responsible for my actions..."


"Ha ha ha ha! Little M*** would like to play a game on 'that man's phone' (me). It's mother just asked if the sticky little horror can borrow my phone. With her iPhone in her hand. I've said sorry, I'm working. She's told me that I'm selfish. I've just told her she's a bad mother, that it's her child and that if she can't control it, she shouldn't be allowed to have it out in public. She's now complaining about me to a friend on the phone. Apparently she never gets this problem on South East..."

"M***'s mummy, having ordered two mini bottles of wine from the trolley is back on the phone. M*** nowhere to be seen... Peace. Lovely peace."

 

"Newcastle station. M***'s back. With a Nintendo 3DS. A pink one. He sits down and mummy stops her phone conversation long enough to ask where it came from. 'A girl gave me it,' replies the scamp. Mum resumes phone conversation... Then angry parent, a gentleman with a football top, No 1 crop and tattoos appears and says 'your kid just stole me daughter's Gameboy!' 'Oh M*** darling,' says Mummy. That's naughty. M*** pulls a screaming fit and flings 3DS at her. Man retrieves it and then says, quite politely given the circumstances. 'He needs taught a bloody lesson'. Mummy, in words I may never forget, says 'video games are bad for children. I wouldn't let my son play anything like that.' As she delves into her bag and gives her hysterical child a grab bag of Quavers. Old man opposite says 'it's not the boy who needs taught a lesson'. Ripple of applause..."

 

"Mummy's second bottle of wine is everywhere. It's ok, the Quavers are soaking most of it up..."

 

"'Show me your phone. You better not be Tweeting this,' snaps Mummy upon her return from the bar car (two more white wines, no M***). 'Absolutely not,' I say, honestly. 'What's your username? Because I'll check,' she threatens. My husband works on the Internet.' I've told her its @EdinburghTrams. I think they'll be happy together."

 

"Where's M***? Wait, why the hell am I worrying? Mummy's back on the phone. The train's full of 'ridiculous Scottish people who think they're Frankie Boyle.' The gentleman with the old B&W kindle has just been warned that he better not be Twittering this."

"Here's the little scamp. A nice lady from East Coast just brought him back. He's been between carriages opening bags. Mummy's been asked to stop letting him run around unaccompanied. She also owes money as her wee tyke took a muffin from the trolley as it passed and then when nice lady asked for it back, he squashed it and threw it at her. Bless. Mummy's told the nice lady she should pay more attention to her trolley if there are children on the train. Nice lady has asked to see Mummy's ticket. Cue harassed emptying of bag. She has 2 x Twixes, 2 x packets of Starburst. Another grab bag of Quavers, three bottles of Coke and the new Dan Brown book. And what looks to be an iPad encrusted with chocolatey finger prints. Wait, wait. Ticket found. Damn. It's valid."


"Nice lady has just told passengers with bags in between carriages they might have to go and check their belongings as some bags have been opened and contents removed. Mummy putting on another nicotine patch. Her second since Edinburgh."


"Mummy has no change for muffin payment. She's asked for... another bottle of vino. Go Mummy! She's asked nice lady to fetch it, mark you. Nice lady declines, points towards bar car. Reminds mummy to take infant with her. Go nice lady"


"It's eerily quiet. Nothing to report. Child sitting eating a Twix. Sideways. Table now looks like a dirty protest is taking place. Mummy opening bottle of Coke for him. This can't be good, right?"


"Heading into London. Mummy on the phone to 'H***' (assuming Daddy). M*** has a birthday party at 4 at R**** and A********'s. H*** better have remembered to buy - and wrap - presents. She is meeting A***** at 5 for pilates (Ha!) so she'll put him in a cab. He's been playing on the train, but people have been extremely intolerant. She won't be taking the train again. H*** can pay BA prices, after all it's his bloody mother they've been to see. She thinks people have been Tweeting about them so he'll have to check once M*** had been dropped off. Honestly H***, I can't believe you put me through this. I deserve some bloody respect... And with that dear readers I'm off the train. Now I need somewhere with WiFi and alcohol..."

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God speed, M***. We'll see you again when, after a spell shadowing at the DWP and the Treasury, you become our next Tory PM.

(If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this blog, might I suggest walking rather than taking the train?)