“My son didn’t get into Cambridge, so we did the right thing and had him put down”

Hello and a big ‘yo’ to all you young hoodlums at ‘The Tap’, it’s Norma Ackerman here, everyone’s least favourite mum! I wanted to share an extract from my newly published book, ‘Psycho Mums Have Feelings Too You Know’. It’s not available at any major retailers yet, which is why I’ve been forced to drum up some hype on this third-rate news site. Anyhow, make yourself at home and read this story about me, myself and my failure of a son Stephen:

“Living vicariously through my sweet, little Stephen’s successes was such a hoot during his early years. Force-reading him Enid Blyton books from the age of two and waterboarding him if he got his times tables wrong meant he was in the top Maths and English sets at Primary School. Both of these are techniques that I would heartily recommend to any other purposeless parents, whose failure to achieve anything in their own lives has distorted love for their child into a windmill of hate.”

“One of my proudest moments was on receiving his Year 4 school report in which Mrs Croft aptly explained that ‘Stephen is an incredibly shy student with no friends, he never shows any enthusiasm in the classroom but he obviously enjoys school as he breaks down into floods of tears whenever it’s time to go home.’ That’s the Stephen I’ll always remember, my Stephen: a plain and dull looking boy on the outside, but a tortured and gutless soul on the inside.”

stephen

“Sadly, things took a turn for the worse for Stephen when he turned 12. He didn’t enjoy school, he didn’t enjoy my company, and ultimately he had nothing to look forward to in life. However, knowing what’s best for him has always been my forté, so at this very dark time I decided Stephen would apply for PPE at Cambridge University to break the world record and become their youngest ever student.”

“Needless to say, Stephen failed catastrophically and was laughed out of the interview room when he couldn’t answer the question: ‘can we ever really experience anything objectively?’ You, the reader, really have no idea how embarrassing it all was for me. I stopped being invited to mumsy coffee mornings, Moira stopped turning up to our weekly tennis fixture, and my husband decided to leave me for the homeless banjo player that the local kids used to pay to drink their piss.”

“Thankfully it wasn’t long before I saw sense again. Who was the source of all my problems? Stephen. Who was such a disappointment that even his grandparents wouldn’t give him birthday presents? Stephen. I realised I had to the right thing for everyone. I took that little twerp to the vet and had him put down like the lame dog he is.”

If you enjoyed this extract, you might enjoy these other titles by Norma Ackerman including ‘How To Manipulate Your Layabout Husband’ and ‘I’m Desperately Trying To Monetise My Ego’.

 

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