I’m a mum-of-3 & hate my kids’ mates so much I spent £3k to keep them apart – it’s money well spent
THINKING about my kids’ close friends, my heart doesn’t just sink, it plummets to the depths of my stomach.
One takes drugs, one is a thief and another has no scruples.
I have three lovely, honest children — a daughter, 13, and two sons aged 15 and 20.
They have more than 25 mates — and there isn’t a single good egg among them.
There’s Rose*, 12, who thinks I can’t hear her drop the F-bomb constantly when she FaceTimes my daughter.
Sienna*, who’s 15, thinks I have no idea it was her who persuaded my son to try a vape that made him physically sick.
And Euan*, also 15, thinks I don’t know he steals from his mum’s purse — and her drinks cabinet — every weekend.
She tried to persuade my daughter to let her skewer her earlobes, too, but thankfully my girl has a low pain threshold and wisely decided it was a bad idea.
So although pressing “confirm” on a £3,000 payment for a recent family holiday felt like madness, at least it kept my brood away from their toxic pals for a fortnight.
For that alone, it was worth every penny.
During the blissful summer holiday we just enjoyed, my kids’ foul friends were reduced to “snapping” or FaceTiming them from the safety of thousands of miles away.
We’re now just over a week away from the start of the new school year and I’m already dreading my kids reconnecting with their poisonous pals.
Bad start
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a controlling mum in any other scenario. I never check phones and, for the youngest two, their homework is their responsibility.
But I’ll be damned if I’ll sit back and watch their lives disintegrate due to their scummy pals.
When I challenge my three about their besties’ lack of moral fibre, you’d think I was trying to convince them the Earth was flat.
I have even grounded them in an attempt to get them to find better friends.
But what they lack in taste in mates, they make up for in loyalty — and none of them is willing to ditch these deadbeats.
My eldest got off to a bad start when his secondary school best mate was cautioned for shoplifting aged just 12.
I had stern words with him about choosing his friends wisely, which I thought he would have taken on board.
But then another buddy ended up being expelled for picking up a stool in double science and throwing it at the teacher.
My middle child picked up where my eldest left off.
His best friend, David*, stole his dad’s £20,000 Tag Heuer watch, showing it off at school with a ketchup-smeared hand.
More recently, the brat set off the school fire alarm, meaning 2,500 students had to be evacuated in the rain while the fire brigade raced to a non-emergency.
My son also has no idea I overheard him talking about one of the girls in his friendship group snogging five boys in one night.
I’m a feminist, but come on — there can’t be much quality control going on, can there?
Interest in some Far Right groups
With two older boys making idiotic choices, I’d pinned my hopes on my fairly sensible daughter.
But her brothers seem to have seamlessly passed on the “stupid pals only” baton.
The BFF she has had since primary school not only pierced her own ears with a safety pin, so she had to have an emergency tetanus jab, but then went a step further and pierced her own belly button, resulting in a trip to A&E when it wouldn’t stop bleeding.
She tried to persuade my daughter to let her skewer her earlobes, too, but thankfully my girl has a low pain threshold and wisely decided it was a bad idea.
When some of my eldest’s friends started showing a rather terrifying interest in some Far Right groups a few years ago, I swung into action.
I booked him on to a sailing trip where he would crew the boat alongside peers his own age — providing a valuable skill to learn and, better still, three weeks away from his racist, sexist, homophobic cohort.
It was worth the four-figure price tag as he has since ditched this yucky clan.
Childhood friendships are known to be vital when it comes to emotional wellbeing, but my kids seem like a trio of Pied Pipers, picking up the waifs and strays no one else wants.
When my kids’ friends come round, I never lift a finger — if visitors want food or drink, I make them get it.
It’s not as if I’m friends with any of their parents.
Quite frankly, they’re all feral, too.
Research suggests around 67 per cent of adults are still friends with children they went to school with, which does not bode well for my three.
My own schoolmates have gone on to become partners in law firms, but some also reside at His Majesty’s pleasure.
Needless to say I’m no longer pals with those who are in prison.
Childhood friendships are known to be vital when it comes to emotional wellbeing, but my kids seem like a trio of Pied Pipers, picking up the waifs and strays no one else wants.
No wonder I’m terrified they’ll be dragged down and have their lives ruined.
There are already signs they are picking up their friends’ bad habits.
I caught the youngest sticking her middle finger up the other day, while the middle one swears like a trooper when he thinks I’m not around.
If I had the cash, I’d pack my kids off to boarding school.
As that’s just a pipe dream, I’ll have to make do with trying to save my kids from their moronic mates myself.
There are children in their year who show promise, who are smart, don’t thieve, sleep around or lie — and I’ll keep persevering until one of them turns up at my door.
- Names have been changed