Aren’t You Glad I’m Not Your Dad?

(A Satirical, Seemingly, Socially Unacceptable Column)
By G. E. Shuman

I was in line at a department store the other day, and heard, and then saw a very distraught young mother behind me demonstrating to her toddler son that she knew how to count. “One… Two… Three…,” the mom spoke, slowly and sternly. I was very proud that the lady could count, and nearly clapped for her when she finished at the number three. Unfortunately for the mom, the child seemed less impressed than I by his mother’s performance. By his reaction, or lack of one, I was fairly certain he had heard his mom count to three many times before. I was also pretty sure his mom meant no warning of possible retribution for some misdeed the child had recently committed. If she had, the effort had exactly the same effect on him as it did on her. Both seemed to dismiss the counting completely, and move on to other things, immediately after she had finished. Personally, I felt that the counting would have been more effective if mom had learned to count backward from three to zero. Everyone who has ever seen a time bomb counting down to zero on TV knows that ‘zero’ is when something actually happens. At zero you run out of luck, and chances, and numbers.

It seems that things have lately become very twisted up in our world. I wonder, and I mean this sincerely, why we have put so much stock and confidence in the judgment of the little angels God has blessed our families with. Why do we even consult small children in matters of their own behavior? That responsibility is quite a load to burden them with. Don’t you agree? Besides this, in my opinion, reasoning with some toddler about why he bit a hunk out of the daycare worker’s leg is like asking a bank robber to tell you why he ‘did it’. In either case you are likely to get nothing more than scowls and shrugging shoulders in response. In my opinion, again, rewarding that toddler with praise for acting like a human being for the following few minutes is like telling the bank robber that, if he tells you he is sorry, he can keep the loot. In either case, it just seems like little in the way of a deterrent for the future. In the situation of the poor counting mother mentioned earlier, I have considered that counting to three may work a little, but not on the child. It does help the mom cool down and divert any thoughts of strangulation or suicide, and that result alone is of great worth. For the child, parental counting seems to do no more than provide him with a few valuable seconds to escape.

I have observed that many elementary schools seem to operate the same way as do the counting moms of the world. I realize that actual punishment, or even the mention thereof, is quite taboo in the public arena, but now even the word discipline is looked down upon. Please remind me? We are getting soft on all of this for what reason? Oh yes, to protect the child’s self esteem. Okay… as long as it’s for a good reason. When I was a child, a teacher would tell you, in no kind voice, to: “Sit in that corner ‘til you straighten up!” You could almost hear the unspoken words: “You little Brat!” emanating from her beet-red face. That was so cool! These days, sitting in the corner at school, or sitting still anywhere is often referred to as a ‘time out’ for the child. My question is a simple one: “Time out for WHAT?” Furthermore, “Sit still and behave yourself!” (A phrase that worked pretty well in my day) is now: “Remember Sweetie, we need to make good choices.” Good choices? WHAT good choices? “Let’s see…” thinks the child. “Next time… will I throw another rock at the girl on the playground, or use a baseball bat? I need to make a good choice.”

I also seem to remember that, back in the day, and this was way before anyone actually used the phrase “back in the day”, little terrorists, I mean sweet little children with discipline ‘issues’, would, (I hate that word ‘issues’. I think that word alone is causing me some issues.) be sent to the principal’s office. When I was young the only thing worse than going to the principal’s office was what would happen after I got home from school that day. No, my parents didn’t hate me. In fact, they loved me enough to discipline me. How strange. I think those mean folks might have even used the word punish from time to time. For some reason, they didn’t have to use the word or the punishment often.

I do like the fact that going to the principal’s office, in most public schools, has gone the way of the dinosaur. Those principals are much too busy working on social models to worry about the behavioral training of the next generation to lead our country. Kids are now sent to opportunity rooms, and planning rooms. I once actually asked a grammar school teacher what happened in those rooms. I asked what kind of torture was inflicted on those kids, in those rooms, to make them hate going there so much. Her response was, seriously, that the kids hate those rooms because they are made to do their work in there. My goodness… talk about cruel and unusual punishment! My unspoken reply was that I would think those rooms would be unnecessary if the little darlings were made to do their work in the classroom. But that’s just me, and I could be wrong. Every person bent on destruction certainly requires an opportunity to plan.

I realize that I, like the trips to the principal’s office, will soon go the way of the dinosaur. To some who have just read this column that may seem like a wonderful thing. Before I go that way, I would like to offer just one more, tiny, seemingly, socially unacceptable observation. It is this. I know that when I was young, moms didn’t count to three in public. They didn’t need to, as everyone assumed they could probably count even higher than that if they wanted to. Also, back then, there seemed to be fewer unruly children in the schools. This could be some cosmic coincidence, and probably is. We were just so lucky back then. Or, it could be because teachers, as a rule, as rulers of the class, even used rulers to stop unruliness-prone children from actually repeating unruly acts. How medieval! Kids were simply expected to behave well at home and at school, and were not coddled and cuddled every time they made a good choice, and refrained from maiming anybody that entire day. Good choices were the rule, not the exception.

I leave you with the wise words of the well-known Christian family psychologist, Dr. James Dobson: “If your child is looking for a fight, don’t disappoint him.” Now, aren’t you glad I’m not your dad?