Louise's dear friend Del was talking about her son's sport's day.
A Non Competitive Sports Day.
For god's sake.
It's a Sports Day.
Where children take part in races.
Where someone wins and everyone else doesn't.
Presumably the teachers stand by the finish line holding back all the fastest runners so all the children can cross the line at the same time and they can all be winners.
Now I don't blame Del for this. She lives in Nottingham's equivalent of Harbourne and has thus far avoided becoming the equivalent of Harbourne mum. (see the blog entry on Wacky Warehouses).
It's really not her fault that she sends her son to a school full of little tarquins whose parents are all trying desperately to outdo each other with the latest idiotic child rearing techniques.
Full of bio this and eco-friendly that, send your child to courses in chinese and ethical consumption.
"Because Tarquin really does care about dis-advantaged societies".
That sort of thing.
No doubt some pin head parent decided that competitive sports are damaging to poor little Tarquin's mental well being. Coming second in the egg and spoon race could be the trigger for poor Tarquin's stress related eczema.
No, having pretentious, over-bearing, social climbing, pushy parents is what triggers Tarquin's stress. All Tarquin wants to do is play, but that's not good enough for these parents, they need him to play in a non-competitive environment.
It's no wonder that poor little Tarquin then spends his time running around a Wacky warehouse hitting my daughter. It's the only place he can get rid of his aggression against his fuckwit parents who just can't see what a terrible job of raising a child they're doing.
Non competitive sports day. Bloody ridiculous.