”
Hello mY Name is Yousef i LOVe game’s and I like reading a littel bit one’s a dat and my dad is in Iran I LOVe PlaYstation I’m 7 yers old I have a Really mean SISter I have a DS I liv in a house I’m not por I love my famely and I’m a boy and my sister’s calls me an ideite and I have a room maght my room maght play’s playstation with me my room maght’s name is Keela my sister is ten yers old and my room moght has gumme werms and a holl bunch of cande.
”
Super-impressed as I was by this incredible piece of writing, I couldn’t help feeling sad that I wasn’t even worth a mention. As my mother repeatedly says (around 10 times a day, at the last count), our children are like the farts of the dog. Oh well. I will not complain. Such is life. The children are the most important things in the world for us, we are the most unimportant for them. To know that the golden boy would happily trade me for a handful of gummy worms and an hour’s playing on playstation, that is not just my destiny, the common lot of parents everywhere, through all time.
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Actually I felt the same…