Helicopters and Hellions

I'm sure you've all heard the term "Helicopter Parent." Maybe you are one. I certainly hope not. But just in case someone out there has never become acquainted with this term, a Helicopter Parent is the kind of parent who buzzes over their child, like a toy helicopter with no safety guard around its blades. What this means for we tutors is, in the midst of hovering about their children, making sure nothing damages the little tyke's self-esteem, we often incur serious injury at their blades. Metaphorical, of course, but the fear of a real attack is sometimes lurking in our minds. Call it the reptilian brain assuming that any threat is a physical one. The Helicopter Parent's biggest flaw, in my so-very-humble opinion, is that she does not realize the damage she is doing to her child.
I have never seen a Helicopter Parent create a lovely or even likable child. Their children are, by definition, obnoxious, entitled, demanding, rude, selfish, evil little hellions. You've seen them in the supermarket, the theater, and the park. They're the ones screaming, screwing their faces up into gargoyle-esque pouts, crying crocodile tears, or decrying the unfairness of life because they can't have a treat, can't run through the aisles of the store, were forced to sit in a "baby chair," or couldn't climb the monkey bars because some "big mean kids" had taken it over.
The Helicopter Parent, when not the cause of the temper tantrum, buzzes in with automatic weapons firing devastating barrages of accusations. "What happened? Who hurt you, precious? Show mommy your boo-boo! Did that big mean kid do something?" Then the Helicopter Parent will turn on the "big mean kid" who is usually all of seven years old, and begin to berate the child for not sharing a toy (that belongs to the child being castigated, usually) or not being careful enough of her little baby, or some other ridiculous imagined crime.
I had one student in particular who is a Spawn of the Damned, and his mother is an Apache model Helicopter. She gets a particular look on her face whenever Spawn is unhappy, and I know I'm about to catch it. Her face always makes me think, first and foremost, of this:
Her son was just the most precious little thing ever, and he was important and special and needed to be treated that way. We needed to make sure that we took extra special care of Spawn, because he's very, very SPECIAL. He has ADHD (no, he doesn't, but that's another story). He has learning "differences" (we're not allowed to call it a disability). He has emotional issues (No shit!). He is in all ways very, very special. Did I metion he is special? Because he IS.
Yes, there are children out there with real problems and real issues, but this is not one of them. This is a spoiled-rotten little bastard whose mother is enabling his entitlement attitude, and turning him into a sociopathic misfit who will wind up euthanizing puppies or cleaning crematoriums for a living. If he doesn't go serial killer.
The reason I think this child is going to go bad is that I've seen it before. I had a similar child, the youngest of four and the only son, who was spoiled by his mother and three older sisters. He used to take off his belt and hit people with the buckle. When he was about twelve, he attacked someone with a hammer but no charges were filed. He started abusing his sisters at 14, his mother at 16. Spawn is way too much like that kid. Just way too much like him. He gets that dead-eyed look, and I just want to run screaming. I don't like working with this kid. And I wonder how many parents do this kind of thing. How many of them create sociopaths without realizing it? How many more of these little monsters, and I mean that quite seriously, will I have pass through my life before one of them takes a swing at me?