Ex Pats.

Of which I am one, although it has been a long time now.

Some are really okay, and some are effing awful.  And I have had a bit too much of the latter kind of late.  Not that it matters all that much to me personally.  I am an old hand at that game.

But my youngest son turned up here a bit back along, and in some distress.  Nothing much to write home about.  He will be okay, because I said so.  And it was just the same old same old anyway.  Anyone who is a parent has been through this.

However, suddenly, the worst of these people saw fit to put him down.  Not ever directly to me.  They circumvented me and read him his fortune.  He is a waste of space.  He needs to grow up.  He needs to get a job.  In other words, “Go home.  We don’t want you here.”

Mind you, I do have a bit of a plum in my mouth.  And suddenly I have produced proof that it isn’t just me.  He is well educated, and erudite and with the same ghastly plum, although he does try to hide this.  God alone knows why.  Meanwhile, most of them can’t actually string a sentence together in English, let alone French.

Me?  I take any old rubbish.  I don’t fall out with anyone for my own sake.  But they have made a very serious mistake on this occasion.  Don’t ever attack any of my children because I am lethal.  It might take me a minute or ten, but I will wipe the floor with them, and they won’t even see it coming, or perhaps even know why.

I simply don’t understand unkindness.

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