Return of the Fucknuckle

 I mentioned some time ago a semi-literate (semi-evolved too, come to think of it) woman who sat opposite me at a parent’s evening and claimed that her offspring “don’t know much words”. She’s back. I’m now teaching the younger of her whelps. She’s a consummate complainer, an expert in self-contradiction and without doubt one of the biggest pains in the arse for the staff in recent years. We’ve had more abusive mothers, more violent ones, ones that have half starved and beaten their children, but for sheer idiotic persistence this one is top drawer. She’s been in so many times to complain about events, real and imagined this term we’ve lost count. She’s been in to ask the Head on numerous occasions to ask how best to bring up her children at home (as if the Head is some sort of parental guidance service), yet has come in to scream at her the following day because it was raining out and the why hadn’t the school been unlocked to let in her asthmatic son? (Note: she was 20 minutes early and had come in the car even though you could lob a brick through her front window from the playground. Which is tempting). It appears we don’t care about her children’s wellbeing or something. I noticed that on the morning in question most parents…no, all parents, had the imagination to turn up with their children when the school was open for business, and those who were a minute early had the presence of mind to wrap their children in warm coats, put wellies on their feet and stand under the large shelter which was built for the purpose of sheltering children who are early to school when it’s raining. She then came in to complain that her older child was being bullied (he’s not, never has been. He’s a sneaky shit who says spiteful things to children and then goes running to mummy when they give him a mouthful back). Anyway, her youngest child had been off sick early last week and returned to school with a clean bill of health but a lingering cough. Midweek I became a little concerned about the child’s health and sent her down to the office to have her temperature checked, it turned out it was fine. By the end of the school day the child started to look a bit rough so I told it’s dad when he came to pick it up. He thanked me for keeping an eye on the kid, which is what I’m there for. Well, apart from the education aspect of my job. The next day the mother came in (dreadful, dreadful bitch) and told me that her child still had a bit of a cough but was getting a lot better. Fine by me, I said I was pleased she felt better than the previous day. The mum told me to call straight away if her child started to get ill again. She’d come and take it home if it did. On Friday she took the brat out for a doctor’s appointment, just to make sure all was well. Very sensible I thought. Half an hour later a seriously pissed off looking school secretary asked if she could have a quick word. The crazy bitch (the mum, not the secretary) had come storming into the reception area waving a doctor’s note (there was another mum waiting to see the Head, so she played up to the audience), saying that she had a signed form saying that she’d taken her child to be examined and the doctor said she was O.K. so the secretary could tell Mr.Chipz that he doesn’t need to keep hassling her about her child, alright?!

Fucking. Stupid. Ugly. Witch.

Does she want the school to open to let her kiddies in out of the rain so they don’t get sick, or does she want us to ignore her children when they do get sick? I have a plan. The next time her fucking offspring complains of feeling ill (bad tummy, I hope) I will ignore it utterly, then send it home at the end of the day with all sick down it’s front and trousers full of liquid shit rolled up and stuffed into it’s lunchbox. Fucking whore.