Thursday, 15 August 2013

Imperial child rearing

Young Amestris has graduated from high school / passed her A-levels and is off to college (the University of Thule, to study ultimatics) and the world should know the key to this success. The key is to have the correct rules, and here they are.

 1) I don't care what you eat but you must eat something. [You can let this one slide when they're 12.]

 2) No mess.

 3) No tattoos.  Especially not the hip alternative ones, they look particularly gross when you're 30.

 4) Never even think of doing smack. Junkies are boring beyond words and heroin is their substitute for having a personality.

 5) No motorcycles, no boys with motorcycles. Ever. You might come back from drugs or disease. You don't come back from brain or spinal damage.

 6) If you meet a boy called Adam Spratt, run away. You know how you can't get pregnant from sitting next to a boy on the bus? If the boy is Spratty you can, even if you're a boy yourself. Spratty is insufferably charming and swarthy and good-looking, has a nasty moustache and is totally useless and unemployable, a complete drone in fact. And the grandchildren will be equally swarthy and have equally nasty moustaches.

 Right, that's it. I'm off to solve global warming next.


Gorilla Bananas said...

Those aren't rules - they're apprehensive entreaties.

xerxes said...

No mess is a rule GB. And pick up that banana peel.