Today at the market, a smallish child, in the 4-6 year range, didn't get the right sort of cheese doodle. He created a sound that made us wonder if we should run for an air-raid shelter. The tow-headed cherub turned fifty shades of fuchsia as he half-squatted, like a linebacker prepared to do battle, and pointed at a specific snack that would save all our eardrums from utter annihilation. His parents both stood there looking lost. The mother eventually rallied enough to squat down and murmur a few soft and unheeded words with him. The father threw the desired treat into the basket and peace was restored.
I said, "What a weenie."
The cashier said, "We would have gotten our butts smacked. None of this 'time-out' bullshit."
I concurred.
When we were little, the thought of a public tantrum never crossed our minds. Why? Because we experienced what happened when we threw a private tantrum...once. That was generally enough. There were consequences. And being children, the memory of the consequences didn't fade with passing time, they expanded. They grew in epic proportion. A few well-timed, short, sharp swats transformed into images of gigantic straps of leather, covered in spikes, trailing shreds of bloody flesh, wielded by enormous parents who laughed maniacally as they raced through the house to wreck havoc on your pitiful hide. After it was over, they'd give you that horrible, disappointed-in-you look.
Granted, this didn't work with my sister. We used to plead with her to STFU. I even used her greatest weakness against her... bugs and public nudity. I told her we adopted her from an aborigine tribe, bleached her so she'd fit in, and if she threw a tantrum our parents would ship her back where she'd have to live naked and eat bugs. It worked, but only intermittently. On the upside, it meant that she was left behind with an unfortunate sitter on many family outings because she couldn't be trusted not to horrify the family. At least when my brothers blew it in public they were hilarious. But i digress.
When did parents become afraid of their kids? About the same time the government stepped in. Granted, there are lots of abused chillun out there who desperately need help. However, there's a whole world of chillun out there now who never got to hear the story of the boy who cried wolf. And if they do get caught crying wolf, they get a time-out and years of pricey therapy to find out why they're compelled to act-out. The only imagination kids still nurture is the avenue of how they can get back at grownups for trying to make them clean their rooms.
Parents have totally given up on imagination. In our house, there was the threat of gypsies for random fits. These were a special breed of gypsies...not the real-life ones, who i explained were different and fun and lived exciting lives. These gypsies were a nomadic band of child-catchers who only stole bad children... and when a child was bad, these gypsies could smell it. They'd freeze like a dog catching the scent of a rabbit. They'd all turn as one. They'd point the wagons towards the scent and drive the horses hard. We had a map to show where they were. I'd call my mom (so there'd be a voice on the other end of the phone) and plead with the gypsies not to come take my boy. The number was 1-800-Don't-Come-Here. (He could never find the apostrophe on the dial.) Mom would laugh her butt off and i'd hold out the phone and announce that they didn't care. He would instantly mind his manners. Then we'd talk and get to the bottom of the problem. Ok, he's still terrified of gypsies, but not on a therapy-level.
Bottom-line; parents need to grow a spine. They need to stop fearing the government and rule their own households. Encouraging an asshole to grow will only result in developing a huge, gaping asshole. Imagine the stench we'll all be surrounded by some day when we end up living in a world run by gaping assholes. We're spending so much time trying to figure out how to save the ozone, and parents are encouraging young assholes to express their methane.
Stop raising a generation of stinkers. Remember, only you can prevent gas-fires.
