Rid of the Kids

 

Rid of the Kids

At Summer’s end, we finally got rid of our damn kids.  When they rolled away in that big yellow bus, we danced in the street.  After a summer of screaming at those little creeps, we needed a break.

My wife and I bickered over which one of us would be forced to watch our evil offspring.  My wife avoided parenting on weekdays by working late, so I retaliated by avoiding raising the rugrats on weekends by fishing and playing golf.  That’s teamwork. Our lazy, worthless kids didn’t care.  They just stayed up in their bedrooms cyber-bullying other kids, group-texting pictures of their privates, and hacking the school to change their grades. 

Daycare was so expensive that we had to get a second mortgage, but it was worth it just to get those worthless kids out of the house for a while. Next, we looked into boarding schools, but they were already so full of spoiled brats that the schools were starting to release some kids on early parole.   

When our dumb kids graduated high school, we were ashamed to learn they’d only learned to read at an 8^th grade level and still received certificates of participation.  They all got into college easily after we took out third mortgages and paid the universities their ransom.  In college they learned to read at a 10^th grade level and burn the flag. 

When the kids graduated college, we expected them to find entry level jobs and live in affordable housing, but they just returned home, went back to their bedrooms upstairs and tried to make a living as social media influencers with a dozen followers.   

The years went by.  Our kids moved away, married, and had children.  When they experienced the horrors of raising terrible kids themselves, they finally appreciated what we’d gone through.  So they called and flattered us, lying about what great parents we’d been to them and begging us to babysit our annoying grandchildren anytime. 

We agreed, for a price.  We charge them top dollar and put every cent of it in our nursing home account.  Now they drop the grandchildren off at our house as often as they can; workdays, evenings, weekends, holidays, you name it.    We know that one day our greedy offspring will stick us in an institution full of geezers, but when they realize the inheritance is gone, they’ll walk away and never visit us again.  Just like we did to our parents, and they did to their parents, and so on.