Spoiled brats are a dime a dozen these days! With all their smartphones and computer games consoles, kids these days are spoiled rotten.
And that’s not a reflection at all on the older generations and their flawed parenting skills. It’s a entirely on PC, lefty society and everyone going WOKE.
So, what do you do if you’ve got a spoiled brat!? We’re here to guide you through how to create non-spoiled brats.
How to Deal With Spoiled Brats
Dear Agony Aunt. One's husband, Rupert, and one, Persephone, have four children by the names of Jocasta (six), Rosalind (8), Fenella (11), and Thomasina (14). Our girls are our world. However, one has come to realise we've possibly spoiled them somewhat. As they often get described as "stroppy little madams". One had been offended by such insults, but when Thomasina began demanding a second horse one did have to put one's foot down and say, "No, Thomasina, you already have a horse. We are getting the next horse for Jocasta's seventh birthday. Okay, sweetie ookums?" Well, one never! Thomasina began shrieking hysterically, stamping her feet, waving her fists around, and she pushed my favourite Ming vase off its mantlepiece. She now has her second horse, which she has named Christabel. Anyhow, the other girls heard of this development and became quite hysterical, too, all stamping their feet and shrieking about how unfair life is. One was taken aback. To cut a long story short, they all now have extra horses by the name of Ophelia, Verity, and Minerva. Jocasta has also requested a pet alligator, but one informed her that was not ladylike. She became quite hysterical and was stamping her feet and screaming. Still and all, she has the alligator and he lives in the main swimming pool in the back garden. He is called Gregory. Unfortunately, Gregory got loose and savaged the private dealer delivering a third horse for Thomasina (she was jealous about the alligator). The horse ran off and, alas, we have not been able to procure a new horse Thomasina likes to the same extent. Meanwhile, Gregory is bathing in the main pool with the private dealer still wedged in his jaws. He's refusing to budge. One tried offering him a cheque for £15,000 but he stays in the pool and occasionally does one of those alligator rolls with the corpse. One hired some local heavies to get the body, primarily as one is not keen on that body stinking out the mansion, yet the alligator merely slaughtered the heavies. There are now four bodies in the main pool. One desired a swim this evening, now one must use the smaller indoors pool. Really, life is most trying at times. My husband says these developments all stem from my "weakling" approach to parenting. Yet one cannot help but feel the real issue at hand is the lack of first-rate caviar in the region. If we had better caviar, one's life would be truly salubrious. Additionally, it would entice Gregory away from the corpses. Anywho, one has been veering towards a loquacious approach here. One is at one's wits end! As a last resort, one turns to you for advice. Regards, Dame Persephone III
Hi there, Perry. It goes without saying your girls need immediate drafting into the British Armed Forces. A spell in the army wielding bazookas and living in rat-infested trenches will toughen them up a bit.
However, as this isn’t 1916 that’s probably not a realistic option.
As such, you should try to be sterner with your children so they can learn some self-discipline and personal fortitude. Try things such as:
- Only allowing 10 apps on their smartphones
- No selfies past 6pm
- Only one horse
Thinking about it, the best thing you can do is get your girls to clear up all the dung the horses create. You should have servants for that type of thing!
However, if you’ve got your spoiled brats shovelling up horse dung they’ll, perhaps, view their horses less favourably.
As for Gregory… have you considered watching the B movie Alligator (1980)? They blow it up with some dynamite.
We’re not suggesting you do that, of course, just maybe blow up your main swimming pool. That might create a stream that develops into tributaries and, eventually, a clear passageway to the Amazon River.
We’re not sure if that’s how it works but, as you put, you turned to us as a “last resort”, and that’s what you get when you scrape the bottom of the agony aunt barrel.