The Perils of the Pushy Parents: A Cautionary Tale

And wacky gameshows from Japan

In which contestants take a flan

Or piece of pie, and shout ‘Banzai’,

And chuck it in the other’s eye,

So provoking gales of mirth

From all the children of the earth.

It gave them lumps of TV fun,

Baked and sweetened, every one,

Edible, digestible,

And slowly irresistible.

Sometimes when the coast was clear

They’d plug the console in the rear,

And play without a hint of shame

The latest electronic game.

Did anything detract from this

Condition of domestic bliss?

Was there a thorn, was there a weed in

Jim and Molly’s childhood Eden?

There was. I crave your kind forbearance:

It’s time to talk about the PARENTS.

II

The source, my friends, of half life’s trouble

Is seeking reputation’s bubble,

And though the kids were not ambitious –

Their beds were soft, their food delicious –

Their lives were not entirely cushy:

Their parents were so very pushy.

When they looked on Jim and Molly

(I say this with some melancholy)

They missed the pair of happy moochers

And saw a brace of ‘brilliant futures’.

Let’s take the father. What a freak!

His balding brow and lean physique

Concealed a terrifying zest

For putting children to the test.

When they were babies in the womb

He’d read them Berkeley, Locke and Hume.

Before their eyes were even open

He’d hum them bits of Bach and Chopin,

And not content, this massive swot,

Would teach them physics in the cot

And swipe away their infant bottle

And fill their hands with Aristotle.

When normal kids are doing well

To stick a bit of pasta shell

On card, or play with coloured blocks

He taught them Zeno’s paradox!

Every year it grew intenser:

At five he put them down for Mensa.

At six he made them, lass and lad,