Wednesday, July 4, 2012
"The Mess Behind the Glory," Indeed
Back in the day, we used to call parents who woke their kids up at 4 AM every morning to hit the skating rink, dragged their five year olds to soccer, football, baseball and gymnastics and turned them over to sadistic coaches, and made them learn every musical instrument ever invented before they reached first grade Overcompensating Assholes. Today, apparently, they are called Bring It Moms.
As near as I can tell, Bounty Paper Towels is currently celebrating Bring It Moms, those women who Couldn't Quite Achieve Success in Life Themselves Nothing to do With Them it Was Politics Plus they Grew Too Fast Despite the Asparagus Diet Mom Put Them On in Third Grade but who nowadays go Out of Their Way to Make Sure Their Kids Achieve Their Dreams ("their" meaning the kids, not the parents, and don't you dare say otherwise, Parent of a Loser Kid Who Has Fewer Trophies than Mine.)
These Moms went the Extra Mile by "letting" their kids turn their palatial suburban estates with massive living rooms into makeshift gyms- because the eight hours they forced their kids to be at the ACTUAL gyms under the iron control of aforementioned trainer wasn't always (ever) enough. After all, it's a damned tough, competitive world out there, and it's NEVER too early for kids to learn this. Mommy had to, and it did her a world of good, even though she did end up letting her parents, her Community, her Country, and God down by failing to make the Extremely Mini Olympics back in '76. Sure it cost her all of her friends and any chance at a healthy, mentally stable adulthood, but she gained an eating disorder. That's life, and you damned better get used to it.
Meanwhile, being old enough to perform gymnastics at a level that gets you considered for an Olympic slot (although "considered" is just code for "failure," honey) apparently doesn't mean being old enough to clean up your own Carnation Instant Breakfast, which yes Will Be the Only Thing You Have to Eat Today, There Will be Plenty of Time to be a Pig and eat Pig Food like the other Not Going to the Olympics kids When you Hit 14 and Your Life is Over. The "Hardest Job in the World" isn't being one of these obsessive creeps. It's being one of their kids.
Other than wiping up after their future therapy patients, I'm not exactly sure what we are supposed to be thanking these pushy pricks for. Maybe we are supposed to thank them because their kids, when they grow up and move out of the house, never will? (you don't hear "thanks for robbing me of my childhood, separating me from my non-athletic friends, and sending me to that special camp that none of my classmates went to every summer" all that often. Ungrateful little bastards, they never appreciate a Bring it Mom's sacrifice.) Are we really supposed to thank them for molding their offspring into people who will give us roughly fifteen seconds of entertainment value this summer- fifteen seconds which will be forgotten as soon as Something Else Comes on Television? For a chance to chant "USA!USA!" because some kid we don't know and couldn't really give a damn about managed to be a little faster or a little stronger than the kid from The Ukraine or the People's Republic of China whom we also don't know and couldn't give a damn about?
Does anyone really chant "USA! USA!" for any reason, ever?
Oh and BTW, do any of these kids have Fathers? Or did they cut and run from the Bring it Moms when they realized that they were married to child-abusing lunatics? If so, couldn't they have taken the poor kids with them?
One more thing- doesn't the "It" in "Bring It Moms" refer to the children? Anyone else have a problem with this?