Or, WHY YOU SHOULDN’T MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE PARENTS OF YOUR CHILDREN”S FRIENDS
Even when an adult friendship is well-established beforehand, it tends to dissolve after the two adults have children, if they are of the same age. Or if not actually dissolve, re-negotiate the boundaries, as the academia jargon calls it. Because, as any parent knows, but cannot say outright, there is nothing more pernicious, dangerous, loathsome, and generally more evil in this world than Your Children’s Friends. And since you have to blame every unpleasant action of your children on those friends, it is a good idea not to become friendly with their parents, even if you see them constantly. Because you are sworn enemies.
The Friends are in fact nothing other than a gang of evil aliens in the guise of ordinary kids put in your child’s school / daycare with the express purpose of corrupting your darling innocent baby. I heard my mother express – no, howl and scream this sentiment ten thousand times as I and my siblings were growing up, now I am feeling it with my own flesh and blood. And the awful thing is, you actually have to pretend to like The Friends.
The Friends have taught the princess about playing games on the internet, about boys kissing girls and vice-versa, and other icky-yucky stuff. They have taught her say “none of your beeswax” when she wants the phone to call one of Them, and you ask why. Basically, they have taught her to challenge parents constantly. And I am pretty sure that The Friends have taught the golden boy his impressive vocabulary of Farsi swear words, even though there are no Iranian kids in his daycare. I mean, everyone knows that swear words are universal, so there is no reason why little Tom or Jack from the daycare should not know that mothers drinking coffee is in fact a terrible swear word in Farsi. Otherwise, why would the golden boy talk about mothers and coffee ten times a day, every day? (and in case you’re wondering, no, his father doesn’t swear in front of the children, either)
Don’t ask me why. I didn’t even know mothers and coffee was awful well into my twenties (I’m not joking. Tell any Iranian man that his mother likes coffee and he will freak out and go bat-crazy, do you remember what the Zeinuddin Zeidan did to the Italian footballist? Something like that, only worse).
The worst thing is, the golden boy’s vocabulary has influenced mine, so I, such a language puritan, find myself talking of mothers/coffee constantly. The washing-machine isn’t working? God, his mother sure likes coffee. The laptop is hanging again. This mother-coffee-drinker is driving me crazy. And so on.
See you horrible Friends, what have you done? Your mothers are all coffee-drinkers.