The Unsung Hero

We have a balustrade running along the corridor that separates our bedrooms with the sunken living space.

Our balustrade is not grand. He doesn’t boast of money or status. He’s just a simple ol’ thing carved out of timber. His appearance is more functional than fashionable. He hates no one and meddles no where.

Despite his non assuming nature, our balustrade has been violated. I cannot understand people who disrespect property that does not belong to them and are so brash as to walk out without mention of compensation. A great disservice has been done to my unsung hero. His simple, yet perfect brace now has an unsightly break in it. All thanks go to Lady Big Big who leaned all her weight against a skinny timber post causing it to cave in. It’s embarrassing for my balustrade. Imagine being a news presenter and chipping one of your front teeth. I will leave the angst I felt about the breakage for another post. For the time being it will suffice to mention that our balustrade is in severe need of carpenterial attention as our efforts to jam the pointy bits of either end of the post are just making the situation worse.

Anyone who comes over to visit and has children under ten generally spells disaster for our poor balustrade. There’s a fine line between assertive and aggressive. In a culture that fosters bad habits and blames it on etiquette, I find myself torn between my responsibility to my home and belongings and my commitment to hospitality. Just a very quick tip to parents and parents to be: If your animals children don’t behave at home, they won’t behave in someone else’s home. No amount of shouting or fake telling off will improve their behaviour in a foreign setting. Morons Parents who sit back while their offspring run amok bear the wrath of the Khan women.

Unlike my mother, my sisters and I will stand firm against vandalism. One night recently, we had virgin visitors at the Khan Mansion. The woman, in her early 30s already had 3 kids under the age of 8 and was thoroughly exhausted that particular night. Lucky us.

Her youngest, though gorgeous, was only two and very very curious. I never blame children for their behaviour but that doesn’t prevent me from hurling them at their progenitors. Especially after continued attempts at firm, eye level conversations about the unacceptable nature of their behaviour.

That particular night I noticed that the top end of the broken post was missing.

<insert scary music>

By this hour of the night, I’d had a gutful of the raving monstrosities that my humble abode (and ears) had suffered. I near shouted from the balustrade to my mother in the kitchen, “Where is the rest of this?!”. The inept visiting mother and mine both looked over. Mine had the usual expression of mixed indignation and embarrassment at her daughter’s haughty temperant, the other just looked over to look away again. Not her problem, clearly. Given it was her daugther that pulled the thing out in the first place, her disinterest made me more angry. I started raving about the severity of such a crime.

After some commotion I calmed down only to find that the darling tot had found her way back to the now dangerous pointy end of the post and was wanting to climb through. You would think that at this point, her mother would immediately pick her up and get her away from the hazardous (and seriously wounded) item. Guess again. She sat like a lump waving an unwilling arm at the child. This was meant to serve as a warning. My goodness. This was too much. I got up, picked the kid up and almost banged her on her mother’s lap.

Later in the night, her older daughter who was running around the house with another little girl nearly smashed a glass plate. The rest of the evening saw me morphing in and out of Lady Jekyll and Monster Hyde. My venom was not only direct at one set of children. I really don’t care if people think I’m rude. What I care about is the fact that THEY are rude and out of order when they come to my house and violate my property. Please don’t make your ineptitude my problem because I can deal with morons. Just, you may not like my ways.

I’ll end this stunning piece with another tip to parents and parents to be: If you can’t learn them, don’t have them.

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