When parents go bad

Most parents try to be great at raising their little people. Those of us who have the minis less probably try a little harder.

But there is always a moment when you think you could have done something so differently that you have to log it in the Bad Parenting file in the back of your head.

Dressing the boys up in reindeer ears to go Christmas shopping is not considered bad parenting, it’s somewhat cute. But dressing your kids in Superman outfits to do the groceries on a Saturday is not theoretically okay. Imagine the kid has woken up, decided to dress himself in a superhero’s outfit and is playing when it’s time to go out. The parent asks the child to get dressed properly, which is ignored as he jumps from lounge to lounge, ending in a negotiation the UN would be proud of.

It’s as successful as the Kyoto Protocol, so with your pint-sized superhero you hit the streets.

Next, when your mini person decides to throw a tantrum at the shops, you pick him up and leave the shop, only to be held up by long lines at the register.

Trying to pacify a screamer with gentle smiles and waves to the onlooking crowd isn’t working. The solution — sugar.

I’ve seen Jessica Rowe at the park with her kid and she seems cool as cucumber, sweetly coercing her little person. Where is her cat’s bum lips look? I want to see that. Where is the Vegemite toast crust lodged in her hair, and why don’t her clothes have banana breadcrumbs pressed into them?

Dinner times are the worst. It’s not called cactus hour for nothing. This beautiful part of the day ends when the kids hit the bath. Everyone in the house is tired from work and school.

Everyone is just dying to sit down and relax — everyone but the little people. They still want to play and scream and fight and refuse dinner while they slouch on the lounge watching The Simpsons.