Well, Pearl’s been talking about her childhood, and I’m suffering from the plague which was given to me by an unattended child, so I’m feeling a little nostalgic (or is that the fever?)…
So we all know I was raised to be the Grammar Nazi, but I was also expected to be, well, let’s call it, “GOOD.” Like, when we were out places, I was expected to stay with Dear Sweet Mama at all times so she could, in her turn, monitor my behavior. At Kroger, I was put in the cart (in the small child and/or eggs and bread basket at the top) and given a fried chicken meal from the Deli to shut me the fuck up (Note to Chuckweasel: This still works.) At the Mall? Stay with DSM or we’re going home without any damn school clothes and you can just walk around looking like an orphan. And she actually made good on that threat a couple of times when I couldn’t resist the rustly, sweet-smelling cave in the middle of the fur coat display and hid inside it. When we went out to dinner, I was expected to sit my ass down, drink my Shirley Temple and speak when spoken to. And I better BYGAWD have something intelligent to contribute to the conversation.
There is no way IN HELL I would EVER have been allowed to roam about on my own, hanging out with the DJ’s (not when I was 6, and even LESS when I was 16… ‘nother story for ‘nother time). I would NEVER have been allowed to run around like a little ass in the WalMart, or scream and cry because I didn’t get the cereal I wanted. DSM once made me stand in the corner AT KROGER because I was acting a fool — right there in the back where you used to turn in your glass pop bottles (if you don’t remember this, you’re too young to be reading this blog). And I would NEVER EVER have been allowed to kick the seats or stand up and stare at fellow diners in a restaurant… Dear God, no.
The thing is, I didn’t behave appropriately because I was afraid of a beating, I behaved because I knew if I did NOT, I would not be allowed to go next time. I was taught that hanging out with the adults and doing grown-up things was a privilege — a TREAT — and I did not want to jeopardize that.
The result being — I could carry on an intelligent discourse on the Mondale/Ferraro campaign by the age of 7. Plus eat with chopsticks and place my own order from the menu — the regular menu, not the kiddie crap. I expect no less from Petey whenever he shows up — in face, he’d better do BETTER.
Maybe not the Shirley Temple’s, though…
hoodyhoo 
I was always stuck standing in corners when I got in trouble. I’ve never known of anyone else that had to endure that punishment.
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yep, that’s me — always in corners, even IN PUBLIC no less. I always wanted one of those round houses like you see at ski resorts so there wouldn’t BE any corners… Checkmate, Dear Sweet Mama!
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Ahh, yes. You and I share a couple things. 🙂 The Shirley Temple being primary, but also that hanging with the grown-ups was a TREAT and I would not jeopardize that.
I feel sorry for the children raised without expectations. They are in for some big disappointments when they discover that the world, frankly, doesn’t give a shit.
🙂
Pearl
p.s. Where does one find pants that cover the crack?! 🙂 In reference to your comment on my post yesterday: JC Penney. Yessiree, JCP is trying its darnedest to be significant in the clothing department and has some Lee slacks and jean that actually fit well. Get thee to a JCP!
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I sometimes wish I could be a fly on the wall when someone finally teaches these precious snowflakes that the world (shock! gasp!) really DOESN’T revolve around them… but that would involve spending too much time in their prescence…
And OMG, Penney’s??? Ha! No more Mom-Jeans from Walmart for this gal!
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coming from a large family (5 kids) we were not subject to the niceties of corner standing. Corporal punishment and swift judgment, if we didn’t actually do the deed we were probably involved or did something yesterday. (fair enough, we were not abused just controled by a master of the herd)
And yes, when our whole troop went to a store or a restaurant, we were very well contained.
I remained puzzled by the little darlins who run amuck in public places. I have found that nasty looks do not carry any weight. If I were Cyclops, I would toast some parents.
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my grandparents used the “if you didn’t do THIS, you probably did something I don’t know about,” method of discipline for my passel of ill-behaved cousins — they were ALWAYS having to go cut a switch! I never did, ’cause I was the baby and a perfect angel besides.
I find it VERY difficult not to try to correct other people’s kids in public places, but that just pisses the parents off!
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My brother and I were angels in public. Everyone says so. I’m pretty sure this came from the certainty that we would be murdered if we embarrassed my mom in public. We were, however, sniping little demons at home. Watching my niece and nephew bicker (not being bad, just sniping at each other) I don’t know why we were allowed to go on.
I do have to say, though, that my nephew is the most polite little boy with the pleases and thank yous to waiters in restaurants. And someday, when my niece gets up the nerve to speak to a stranger, she will be too.
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when did the threat of “you just wait ’til we get home,” lose its effectiveness??? DSM wasn’t a spanker, but I just KNEW there was a line somewhere that would unleash hell on my poor little bottom if I crossed it!
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My personal favorite was sending you to your room, which involved me having to sit on the front porch. Why? Because you stood by the window screaming “don’t beat me, mamma and call CPS” at the top of your lungs – you thought that would checkmate, but instead, I sat outside in the sunshine reading. So, HaHa!!
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you really should never have taught me what CPS was… it was all your own fault…
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I think all children running wild without proper parental supervision should be captured and shipped to China to work in a factory making things for Walmart.
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GENIUS! And we could feed them all the vegetables we didn’t want to eat, so that the food that WOULD have gone to feeding them could be used to feed well-behaved children who are starving in Africa!
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