The stipulation here is that I love my kids — For a range of reasons far to prolix to explain in this post, I raised them as their sole custodian (how I love legal terms) from the ages of six and three. With arrogance, they are the best things I ever did.
However, these days I abhor children, obviously those of others. Parents are extraordinarily indulgent these days and it’s no wonder their kids grow up to be problematic for themselves and the world at large. Here’s an example from last night: Some friends were over to dinner, a daughter, about nine, and her girlfriend were in attendance. It began with the daughter calling to her grandmother from 50 feet away: Bring me something to drink!
The grandmother (who acts now as the little girl’s mother), did just that. Hell, had one of my kids ever done that I would have told them to get up and get it themselves. I remember back in the late 70s, I was working for a major company in New York City and had taken them, out of necessity (no sitter available) to a fine restaurant (where I was dating the sister of the owner).
The waiter approached the table and asked for our order. The kids asked for burgers, to which the waiter responded, “Nonsense, not in this restaurant” and served them Duck l’Orange.
My children were raised to say “Please” and “Thank you,” to use a bit of a metaphor. They are grown now, one with a child of his own; both well employed, even in this economy and we maintain, literally, a “best friend” relationship…they are, indeed, my best friends.
I’ve not seen any kids raised that well these days.
