Anna Dusseau | 25th March 2020
Kids kicking off? Hungry for a fresh order of parenting wisdom? Look no further than the Homeschool Guru’s sizzling takeaway menu (the restaurant is closed) where fury tastes better with a side order of sarcasm.
Oi! (The Classic) Always a winner, this is the number one reprimand of choice. Comes with an unusually aggressive index finger and bulging neck vein.
You two! Get here NOW! (The Fishwife) Best served at maximum volume – go hard or go home, people – this is an al fresco option for fearless admonishing with tables bookable in advance.
No. Just. No. (The Burrito) Enjoy big, bold flavour and keep it seethingly simple with this no-nonsense, savoury yet satisfying wrap. Requires no garnish.
Stop right now, thank you very much. (The Spice Girl) A retro classic, dripping with barely-concealed disdain and best served with a twitchy smile which tells them mummy’s on the fricking edge.
Oh, well done. That’s brilliant. (The Sarcastic Side) Everyone’s favourite anguished accompaniment to a main course of contempt. Can be served extra spicy.
Is this really how we treat each other? (The Veggie Option) A wholesome choice packed with mindful parenting pulses and slow-release grains of patience. Needs a dollop of disappointment.
Hey! Oh! Wow! Yo! STOP! (The Tapas Selection) Mix and match any 4 and get the 5th one free. Served at a sprint, this can also come as a sharing platter and goes well with wild gesticulation.
Wait! What? Oh, go on then.. (The Cheeky Nandos) Give in and give yourself a break. What’s that? The iPad’s in the bath? Just..whatever.. Goes well with a chilled glass of Chardonnay.
No no no no no no no no nooooo! (The Machine Gun) Always a family favourite, this artful variation on the classic ‘NO!’ dish dials up the heat and has heart-pumping intensity.
Seriously! What’s wrong with you? (The Check Up) Locally sourced scathing which oozes with half-baked disbelief. Equally enjoyable with or without a shoulder shrug.
Darling, I am counting to 5.. (The Gluten-Free Mobster) A low-calorie re-imagining of the original Mobster, served with salad garnish and honeyed radishes of reproach.
Errrrrr, what’s going on here? (The Surf n Turf) Try your luck with this rustic rebuke, or check the blackboard for in-season scorn, all served with elbows propped enquiringly on scrubbed tabletops.
Whose turn was it? (The Cosmopolitan) Light and refreshing, with a citrus kick of censure, this is the urban mama’s go-to zesty classic and socially acceptable any time from 11am.
Wait ’til your father gets home.. (The Jack Daniels) Or perhaps until he closes his laptop. Still, this malted, moody bourbon of berating goes down well at the end of a long day.
Oh. My. God. (The Sinner) Served with a squeeze of surprise, this timeless ticking-off requires lashings of locally-sourced exasperation and can be washed down with a pint of real annoyance.
Fuck’s Sake! (The Last Order) This is the late night head-in-fridge option, with artfully muffled articulation of the expletive followed by a bark-like delivery of the second word. Short and gutsy.
So that’s no pocket money for the next 10 years. (The Cheque) Get going with Economics earlier than expected and teach your teeny boppers that, when stuff gets smashed, it’s only fair to split the bill.
Everyone take a deep breath. (The After Dinner Shisha) Requires lotus pose and total abandon. Reserved for when inspired parenting goes totally tits up.
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