You think my child is a heinous sociopath because she killed your family cat? Ever heard of formaldehyde and Damien Hirst? It's called art.
Oh? My dear Timothee The 15th stole your little stinkers Nintendo Switch? Can you even afford one?
Rupert flashed his bottom to the whole class? Ever heard of “performance art?” Gosh. His great great great uncle was a famous exhibitionist, of course he has eccentricity in his genes. It's your dampening of his artistic disposition that worries me the most… What kind of teacher are you?
My 14-year-old has been selling class-A drugs behind the science block? Well, Mr. Headteacher, what happened to your school's ethos on “Turning boys into entrepreneurial young men since 1959?” If anything, your school is to blame for my son’s newfound entrepreneurial spirit. You do know who my husband is, right?
My beautiful Otilie wiped her faeces on the school bathroom walls? Well, her Godfather's son’s brain surgeon's sister is a famous muralist and recently attended our dinner party. She's obviously just feeling a bit inspired. Goodness gracious there’s not a single teacher with an open mind and a respect for the arts here.
You have CCTV footage of my Valerie Lisa Mona the 5th robbing your little convenience store? Not my Valerie Lisa Mona The 5th. People have been pretending to be her on Instagram since she was 10 years old because of how stylish and beautiful she is, it's obviously the same situation. It must be. Plus, we practically have a convenience store in our pantry so there’d be no need.
My little angel put your child in a headlock and forced them to smoke a cigarette? Well, what can I say? It's not my fault my child’s cooler than yours.
You caught my precious Peter snorting cocaine off of the urn filled with your mother's ashes? Who would even buy an urn with a surface so flat? I can't believe your distaste fueled such creativity in my child, I should be proud if anything.
You think my blessed Tarquin is a violent uncouth psychopath because he bit your… your… thing’s finger off? Darling, it’s called curiosity. Our nanny told us it's common amongst ultra-gifted children. Maybe your child just isn’t smart enough.
My son keeps giving your boy a wedgie? Wow. He really is selfless. You see, we like to encourage one another to lean into discomfort and practice Stoicism in our household, so my son clearly wants to help your boy become less of a weak-willed victim. Bless him. Here, I’ll write you a check for 1000 pounds, that should get you a copy of Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. Thank me later! Mwah.