Ok, well maybe there's some exceptions. My friends' children obviously don't count. And I definitely have a sweet spot for all the random little girls that always seem to want to kiss Little O even though they don't know him (what tarts!). I can even put up with the snotty nosed little tykes that are clearly old enough to read but seem to disregard the age limit at Adventure Kingdom and would rather spend their time throwing plastic balls at me in the ball pond than play in their own designated area.
But there is one child that I cannot stand, and that is the spoilt kind.
Sure, Little O may have received more toys than he could shake a stick at last Christmas, but I'm talking about the MEGA spoilt kind. A child of which description I had the unfortunate opportunity of running into yesterday.
Walking from Knightsbridge to Victoria, I had to walk via Motcomb Street in Belgravia, and as I had time to spare, I decided to stop off at possibly the poshest Starbucks ever. Settling down at a window seat with my latte I saw him approach from a way off. I went through the mental checklist...
- Private school beret – check.
- Nanny in tow – check.
- Immediately apparent air of arrogance – check.
The first words I heard him utter were (I kid you not): "I'll have a cappuccino."
That told me everything I needed to know; I had here a prime example of a Class A little (cover your ears kids) sh*t. I would guess he was around the age of 7.
He went on to get out his iPhone and broadcast to the rest of the coffee shop how "simply dreadful" his maths lesson had been that day and how Rory had told a joke that was "absolutely marvelous".
To be fair, I was much more on his turf than mine. But the whole episode made me extremely grateful at how modest our little life is and how grounded my lovely little boy is.
At least there's not too much chance Little O will end up looking like this (unlike the Starbucks kid)...
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