A Big Shout Out To All The Helicopter Moms!

Let’s give a big Shout Out to all the Helicopter Moms! Helicopter Moms are not a new thing, they’ve been around for years. In fact, we now have our first generation of Children Of Helicopter Moms who are living and working in the adult world with absolutely no idea how to behave like an adult, thanks to their Helicopter Moms.

So, Thanks Moms. Thanks for insisting on dropping your kids off at school every day and picking them up every day, even though my tax dollars are paying for a perfectly good school bus to drive to your home and pick your child up. Thanks for insisting that all the kids on the soccer team get a trophy, because We’re All Winners, instead of letting your kid learn the value of occasionally losing. Thanks for making your kids teacher’s lives miserable each and every year of school, by constantly harping at them to do more to help your child succeed rather than taking the time to check and make sure your child actually did his homework every night.

Thanks for always finding something else or someone else to blame every time your child screwed up. Thanks for never setting any rules or guidelines or boundaries for your child. Thanks for raising your child to refuse to get a part-time job in high school but instead simply demand you raise her allowance. Thanks for buying your child his first car, and then paying his gas and insurance, rather than teaching him the value of working for it.

Thanks for Not insisting your child excel in school so she might be eligible for academic scholarships to help pay for college, but convincing yourself that your little baby is talented enough and pretty enough to get a Cheerleading Scholarship that will teach her all the feminism she could ever hope to learn. Thanks for teaching her that if she’s pretty, she doesn’t have to be smart. And then thank you for paying her full tuition to go to college, because that’s the place she’ll meet a good husband to take care of her.

Thanks for teaching your son that his penis is somehow dirty and nasty and diseased. Thanks for instilling in him an unnecessary fear of public restrooms and all germ-ridden surfaces therein. Thanks to you, Mom, there are now approximately 1/2 the male workforce who refuse to touch the freaking handle in order to flush a public toilet when they’ve finished their business, leaving their piss and shit on display for the next poor guy who walks in to use the facilities. Thanks for making your child irrationally afraid of germs, and for facilitating the salary of your child’s psychotherapist, whom he will need to see all of his adult life, trying to determine why he’s afraid of his own damn dick. By the way, while we’re on the subject, I’m just curious; if the penis is so dirty and nasty and diseased, how in the hell did you get pregnant with your poor wounded son in the first place?

Thanks for teaching your child that it is a perfectly normal thing to speak with your mother on the telephone several times a day, between every class, not to say anything important but to just interrupt your work day and your productivity to make you feel warm and fuzzy because you think your child actually believes that you are her best friend. Thanks for teaching your child that things will simply be given to them, if they ask mom to take care of things.

Thanks to you, Helicopter Moms, we now have 80 screaming little brats in congress holding the entire country for ransom, endangering the welfare of untold millions, because you taught them stupid values and now they think it’s ok for them to hold their breath until they turn blue and stamp their tiny little feet until they get their way. It doesn’t matter that the entire country is embarrassed by your child, it just matters that your child gets his or her 15 minutes of fame. Unfortunately, the entire country is struggling to come back from one of the worst recessions most of us have every lived through, and your bratty little child is putting the entire country at risk.

Helicopter Moms, do the world a huge favor – if you have any type of soul left what-so-ever, go to your child, slap the holy shit out of him, and tell him to grow up and take responsibility for his own life as well as some social responsibility for his community and the world around him.

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