Helicopter parents suck.

I'd never heard this term until a few months ago when I came across Greg Williams' cartoon illustrating the Wikipedia article's title (more stuff here).

I work with such a person. The Helimom's one of those cell phone-dependent people who simply cannot do without the convenience of being able to monitor her children's bowel movements from the inconvenience of work (what's that? No cell phones allowed at work? I wonder what that means?). If she could wipe for them via text message, she would, no matter that both kids seem reasonably functional. Two arms, two legs, all that stuff.

Her son is the main one she hovers over, and the rest of us get reports throughout the day on the boy's progress in school. We even learn whether he got a "red," "yellow," or "green" for the day. She doesn't understand why he gets into fights (but the rest of us see him taking after his helimommy, poor kid).

None of us cares, but this doesn't keep her from broadcasting right into a conversation. The Helimom's like that. All conversations must be about her when she is present.

And now we know that the boy's beginning football this year. I wouldn't have bothered to write about Helimom or her kid, but she pissed me off whining about his first day at practice, when the coach did something she didn't approve of--and since she was right there (and didn't need to call him to bitch him out), she went and bitched him out in front of alllllll the other kids and parents, explaining to him that her son is special and should be treated as such. I don't even remember what it was that was so damn special about the kid.

Of course, Helimom can't grasp the concept that the coach knows his job, and he's in charge on the field, and she just needs to be tied down to the bleachers and sat on by some non-heliparents.

Sheesh.