Dear Wonderful Friend,

Your son is a real little turd. Yes, that’s right, your kid is a shit head.

And, while we’re talking I would prefer you leave him at home next time.

I am pretty relaxed, we both know my house is no shrine to cleanliness, I don’t mind a bit of mess. I don’t mind a bit of noise either, having trained my ears at dingy nightclubs and pubs in my earlier years. The ringing has stopped but my tolerance levels are fine.

When I request he stops throwing stones at the cat, and he continues anyway I am not really thinking about how good his right arm is and how well his aim is. No, I am thinking what a total shit. When your child punches my daughter in the face, and his father tries to make him apologise, and the little darling refuses. You should insist. You should teach him that it is not ok. NOT, say “Don’t make him apologise if he doesn’t want to, he is feeling embarrassed”.

Embarrassed! Poor little tyke.

When he snatches the toys from the baby and lies on top of them so she can’t get them, it isn’t because he is not coping with the changes at school. It is because he is a pain in the ass.

And when he refused to get in the car when you left, you are lucky I didn’t kick the little fucker right into his spoilt brat leather booster while I ripped his personal DVD player from the seat at the same time. Because I know even though you threatened 78 times that you would take it away if he didn’t stop a) hitting his brother, b)hitting my kid, c) ignoring you, your threats are empty. I know it, he knows it, all your friends know it.

So, to one of my most amazing friends ever. I love everything about you. But your son is a pain in the arse, let’s keep our catch ups to the café and the pub. Ok?