Few’s The Kids Are All Wrong. Chapter 3.

Too Few Is shuffling around his desk, it’s what he calls dancing. He smirks, it could be a grimace.
“Where’s the gin?” He roars; “Never mind.” He spot a half empty (half full) bottle on the window ledge, grabs a rancid coffee cup and pour liberally. Big gulp.

“Aha, you are a fucking genius! That was the Wexford Echo; there is general outrage amongst the good burghers of The Hook following your hatchet job on them last week. They are demanding an apology, a retraction even. I told her you’ll get an apology from me when the bog warriors down there learn how to make a decent fucking espresso – i.e. never!”

It’s 2 o’clock. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

“Listen, Imelda is dropping in with one of the kids, or maybe two of them – it’s hard to keep track …I need to bring them out for something to eat…you’ll have to come, I may go off on one at any minute….”

Imelda, Few’s long ago ex and mother of his children, walks through the door with Alicia, 5 years old and belligerence personified, her Beats headphones pumping some godawful tween muck.  Imelda gives him the once over, the look of distaste on her face suggests she is surveying  a festering wound and I guess that’s not far from the truth.

“Your latest tart not in the office then? That makes a nice change”

“How fucking dare you !” Few yells, spit and gin flying everywhere

“Well, its not as if…”

Not that! This! Few dramatically rips the headphones from Alicia’s ears and put them on –

He grabs her iPod “One Direction !? 5 Seconds Of  Summer?”

He turns to Imelda, finger jabbing the air furiously on front of her face.

“I’ll have you for this, it’s neglect, plain and simple , it’s abuse, I DEMAND CUSTODY”

“You, you better sort this out” he turns his gaze to me, yes, me.

Later in the café

“Look, thanks for coming down, BTW you look ridiculous”

“Is it the beard?”

“Of course it’s the fucking beard. Few is not beard, Few is so far left of beard it’s ridiculous. It makes you look like Val Doonican”

“Val didn’t have a beard”

“Exactly”

Alicia is sitting beside him humming and singing a little tune. “How cute!” Few says, “You’re a great little girl, what’s your song called baby?”

“Daddy is an asshole” came the reply. She then proceeded to blast out the refrain at a much higher volume, emboldened by Few’s paternal approval. She quickly gained an attentive audience of fellow diners.

Few stormed off to the toilets, locked himself in and refused to come out until I brought Alicia to the door and bribed her to apologise.

Back at the table Imelda says “Goddamit Few sometimes I wonder who the 5 year old is around here” – to which he riposted “Yes, I’m 43 and Alicia is FOUR AND ELEVEN MONTHS so the answer is NOBODY”. She was silent for a long time then, just sitting there and staring into space.

So here it is, Few’s fantastic Kids Electric 100, It’s all over the place and it’s had too many Skittles. A great tune never gets old, but your kids do. Get your sprogs rocking to The Troggs, before it’s too late.

Just press play.