Oh, she might have a paranoid dread of some one-wit wonder because of a jealousy she doesn't like to admit having but the youngest Patterson seems to be the one that most of the people might actually tolerate. They definitely sympathize with her because Crazy Scary Angry Shrieky Mommy loves to exaggerate how wild the animal is. One furtive drag on someone's cigarette and the kid is suddenly a chain smoker. One gulp of cooking sherry means that she's a hopeless alcoholic. One errant curse word and suddenly, the child is a monster of profanity. It's lucky that the kid didn't get caught smoking a joint or she'd be like the guy in the PSA Hanna-Barbera made forty-five years ago who did one toke of maryjane and ended up mutating into a Scooby Doo villain and getting locked into the Big-Ass Walk-In Tomb Of Hopeless Drug Addicts. (Of course, if they REALLY wanted to scare people shitless, they'd have him sit in the back of a van with an ugly-ass Great Dane eating pet treats.)
When one hears of the kid's latest alleged outrage, one learns less about the non-descript and essentially innocuous dope in the school girl uniform and learning another unpleasant thing about the fearful git parents: a strong need to find reasons to fear and hate the child and thus have a reason to somehow banish her from their minds, hearts and thoughts so as to restore a chimeric symmetry to their lives. The mother seems transfixed by the stupid idea that she has the one child too many and that's why things are wrong.