My dear friend, Skinny Bitch, loves money. She loves to instill values of money in her children. To do this she does not just grant them their every wish, oh, no, she does not.

She tells them that until they have a job, they are poor. Their parents money is not their money. Makes sense to me in a Bill Cosby sort of way.

She is also a tad perverse with her parenting. She likes to mess with their heads a bit. Says it will make them stronger, but I know her, she does it because it’s fun.

One time, when Heartstopper was about six, Skinny Bitch sat her and George down and said she had sad news for them. Shaking her head sadly, she announced:

“I don’t think we can afford summer this year.”

Heartstopper, who loves summer every bit as much as her mother does, was stunned, and a tiny bit heartbroken.

“Can we go to the beach once?”

Her mother sighed, and looked like she was thinking hard to find a way to go to the beach under the unbearable burden of being unable to afford summer.

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

Oh, that pesky summer, and it having to cost so much to enjoy the warmth as you play outside.

Perverse parenting. She’s the master.

There is about five minutes to slap up a post, so those who are unhappy may line up at the checkout for a full refund.

For those who are unfamiliar with my friend Skinny Bitch you will want to read this story about her, and even follow a link that introduces her around the middle of November, back when I had 300 page views for the entire freaking month.

I love the woman. She’s a comedic genius. She spent five months in a halo device for head injuries. Do a Google image search if you want to know how miserable this device is.

The thing is, she’s a tad perverse around her children. Note that I did not say perverted. She isn’t. At least not around children. Even when she tells stories that scream “Bad mother! Mean mother!” I am wiping my eyes from laughing. She has great delivery. Maybe it’s because I’m a little bit perverse as well. But I’m accomodating. I just saved you the trouble of looking up the word.

Besides being somewhat OCD, which I adore about her, she is also frugal to the point of being cheap. A few years ago, her even-more-gorgeous-than-her-if that-is-possible daughter, Heartstopper, asked her if she would buy some bandaids.

Skinny Bitch: “I bought you the nice Barbie bandaids and you used them all up in one day.”

Heartstopper: “Mom, I was SIX. Ten years ago. I learned my lesson. Plain bandaids are fine.”

Skinny Bitch thinks for a while, because, you know, she’s like that, and she recalls that she wants to show Heartstopper that she now has an A level life since she dumped the dirtbag she was seeing. (Dirtbag was every mother’s nightmare)

What does Skinny Bitch do? She goes out and buys several packages of Barbie bandaids to demonstrate that she isn’t cheap at all, no way, even if she did find them at the dollar store.

Heartstopper: “Moooom! Plain bandaids. Plain. I am so over that Barbie shytte.”

Skinny Bitch (at me, rolling eyes): “See? There’s no pleasing them.”