Thanks For The Parenting Advice, Guys

Listen up, ladies! You’re all doing it wrong.

Parenting, that is.

Thank God for the blokes pointing out the error of our ways.

The latest mother-of-all-fuckups is Yumi Stynes.

Who in their right mind would dress a baby in a nappy on a hot day? You could even see her nipples! It was positively pornographic.

If you missed it, Ms. Stynes (yes, she’s married but refuses to go by the proper title, Mrs.) carried her unclothed baby daughter Mercy onto the Paddington Bear red carpet in Sydney on Sunday.

Someone, call Community Services: this woman is clearly not fit to be a mother.

Who knows what crimes have been committed against her other two children? Listening to rock ‘n’ roll, which we all know is the devil’s music? Enduring endless babycinos, as their mother insists on getting out of the house?

(Where would we be without moral custodians like News Corp journalist David Campbell? He’s a father-of-two, so he knows EVERYTHING about parenting. Sir, I salute you!)

That’s the problem with “nutty inner-city leftist feminists”, in the wise words of Mark Latham (a stellar father who selflessly imploded on the political stage to spend more time with his family).

We should follow his lead, by spending our lucrative parliamentary pensions on Barbie dolls for our girls and boxing lessons for our boys.

After all, Barbie teaches girls important skills, like asking boys for help with computers (giggle!)

And boys need to learn how to fight, lest they end up with a broken arm after an encounter with an angry taxi passenger. What a marvellous role model Mark Latham is.

Not like Sarah Macdonald, the latest target of his righteous anger,who’s conducting a dangerous gender experiment on her bundles of pink and blue.

We know little girls should be “sugar and spice and all things nice”.

Well, Ms. Macdonald (what’s so wrong with being a Mrs., ladies?) is ever so proud of a daughter who “is far more willing to whack people than… hug them”.

I mean, what next? Girls standing up for themselves? Heaven forbid.

The journalist – I mean ‘mummy blogger’ – also writes about “bad habits” like telling your baby daughter she’s “so pretty”.

I’m sorry, but this is beyond the pale. In this county, we have a fine tradition of valuing women for how they look. Frankly, Sarah Macdonald is un-Australian.

Instead of doing her duty on the P&C, which she calls “another area of unpaid work for women”, she’s probably sipping lattes with Larissa Waters, figuring out how to firebomb Mattel. Or chugging back a combination of coffee and Zoloft with Lisa Pryor.

This was the previous parenting pest exterminated by the legendary Latham.

Her crime: child neglect, in a desperate and misdirected attempt to make it in the male domain of medicine.

(What’s that number for Community Services again…?)

A real woman knows her place: in the kitchen preparing scones for her cherub-faced children; relishing the satisfying tasks of washing, vacuuming and ironing; and smiling serenely to greet her husband at the end of a long hard day.

No need for antidepressants in this picture-perfect life!

Really, we should go back to the days when women were seen and not heard. (And children, of course – this goes without saying.)

What gives these women the right to raise their children in the way they see fit? The sense of entitlement is unbelievable.

To paraphrase the Human Headline, “Shame, mothers, shame”.

At home – as at work – blokes know best.

Yumi, please, conform: for Mercy’s sake.