Over the years, I have observed my children going about these parenting duties and responsibilities. I concluded long ago that my kids far exceed my parents when it comes to proactive/hands-on attention.
Why, I recall when I was playing little league baseball, my parents not only seldom attended my games, they thought I was smart enough to 'find' water if I got thirsty! I do remember my Mother telling me once, "Don't put your mouth on the water-spout, you'll get trench mouth!" That warning came just as I was getting on my bike for the three mile ride to the city park. I don't recall Mother asking if I had money or what time I would be home. I suppose she assumed with 'no' money, I would be home at some point-in-time.
Little league parents today, usually attend the games carrying 'big-boy's' water bottle and a couple of his favorite snacks. I guess my parents never did imagine a 10-year old kid needing food after running from first to third and then to his position in right field. Kudos to the 'now' parent!
I will give my folks credit; with my brother who is fifteen years my junior. One time, I was seated in the bleachers at the city park watching my younger brother's team play. His team took the field first and I watched as my 'kid-brother' walked to his position in right field, tossed his glove aside and sat down in the grass facing 'away' from the infield. When I returned home and shared that scene with my parents they seemed indifferent. I suppose my parents, who always lectured me about 'hustling' had some parental epiphany while I was having my mind destroyed at that liberal-thinking' college.
I attended a neighborhood kid's little league game just last spring. My wife and I arrived late and I asked the gentleman near the backstop what inning they were 'in' and what was the score. I received several scornful glances from moms and dads. A nearby lady whispered to me, "We don't keep score and we don't record 'outs.' Every boy bats in every inning and we play for one-hour." I turned towards my wife and whispered, "Are these parents not afraid their kids are going to grow-up to become socialists?" I am somewhat certain that very few of them will grow up to play baseball. Meanwhile, the youth season ends with all smiles as every kid gets a trophy!
Once upon a time old timers in America bragged about learning from the 'school of hard knocks.' I regarded that as meaning...getting knocked on your ass but getting back up and making some adjustment so as not get knocked on your ass again!
The middle school algebra teacher could have given me an 'A' but it still did NOT make me as smart in algebra as Lois Siegel.
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