Come on, irish stu, say it…
I’ll give ye the back o’ me hand?
I’ll tak ma haund aff yer face the noo, ye cheeky wee bisim! Git ben the hoose.
(With kind permission of IrishStu and Lord Lucan)
If there’s any more of that, there’ll be less of it!!
It’s also a poor life lesson to teach your sons that pissing off the biggest guy in the room will be dealt with by means of a reasoned discussion of what your transgression was and why you’re not going to do it again (wink smileys in the pile by the door, if anyone needs one).
Don’t be so stupid. Situations such as that require the issuance of an invitation to a drumming circle and egg sandwiches with lashings of ginger beer.
I’ll be the one in the grass skirt.
Well, sure, if you’re raising your kid to be a Taiwan lawmaker.
But in the civilized world reasoned discussion IS still the preferred option.
If I ever had another kid, it would grow up in the north of England or east Asia. I would love to vist Sweden or the Netherlands, but live there? I’m not ruling it out, but it’s fairly unlikely.
You’re also assuming you are going to be smarter than your kid and more aware of his/her environment when he/she is a teenager.
Just to be clear, I’m not telling you the best way to bring up your children, I’m simply sharing my views based on my own experiences.
In your blinkered, black and white little world, possibly. Most of us, however, according to your survey, are a bit more aware than you that there are a multitude of shades of grey and are therefore less willing to sit out on the end of a branch, blissfully unaware that you’re setting yourself up to use that saw in your hand to cut your own precarious perch from under yourself.
Don’t be like that. People make fools of themselves on here all the time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your prissy, holier-than-thou tosh, however, is. How DARE you inflict pain and suffering on your child yet have the utter temerity, the sheer unmitigated GALL, to chastise others for doing the same. You might not hit your kid with your hand, but I’d rather have Irishstu for my daddy ANY day of the week. At least he’s not a hypocrite.
[quote=“sandman”]
In your blinkered, black and white little world, possibly. Most of us, however, are a bit more aware than you that there are a multitude of shades of grey and are therefore less willing to sit out on the end of a branch, blissfully unaware that you’re setting yourself up to use that saw in your hand to cut your own precarious perch from under yourself.
Don’t be like that. People make fools of themselves on here all the time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your prissy, holier-than-thou tosh, however, is. How DARE you inflict pain and suffering on your child yet have the utter temerity, the sheer unmitigated GALL, to chastise others for doing the same. You might not hit your kid with your hand, but I’d rather have Irishstu for my daddy ANY day of the week. At least he’s not a hypocrite.[/quote]
AND he’d make you your own fully functional Buzz Lightyear suit!!!
AND unlike yer Da and mine, he likes Molly Hatchet!!
I could go on and on…
No offense taken. I recognize that everyone’s just stating their opinions. And I recognize everyone’s entitled to make their own reasonable decisions in parenting. It’s clearly not an objective science.
As for teenage years. . . woooooeeeeee. . . I’m just glad we didn’t have a boy, because I know firsthand what a terror teenage boys can be. And, I have a little trouble understanding how I turned out be such a first-class major pain in the ass in those years, heck, well past those years – with ample drugs, debauchery, jail, vomiting, passing out drunk, blacking out, waking up who knows where, thievery, destruction, kicked out of here, kicked out of there, you name it – when my parents tried their best and I feel did a fairly decent job, certainly the best they were capable of (they did spank me a few times, such as when I was playing with matches on the back porch, or when I stole a quarter from a donation bowl). Teenage years can be hell for both the child and the parents, a total terrifying mystery, like a screaming, bloody alien suddenly, inexplicably plunging out of ones chest.
I’m confident our sweet girl won’t be like that at all, but I do realize I’ll have to worry about all the perverts and sickos and frat boys and hoodlums who will try to get into her pants, and give her drugs and diseases and babies. But, I’ll discuss all those things with her and hopefully she’ll be smart enough to make wise decisions, even if I was foolish enough not to have beat her as a child.
Girls are much more difficult. Also, ‘smart’ isn’t really the point: smart kids get in far more trouble than stupid kids. They have the imagination and the skills to pull it off. Smart kids also have fewer boundaries, unless for some reason, they decide they feel like doing what you want… I can’t even start to detail some of the deeply shameful shit I did between the ages of 13-17 and it wasn’t a case of parental discipline: they simply didn’t know what I was doing because I hid it from them.
Thanks SO much for that image, MT. Not. I’ll need to reassure myself right now that my wee treasure won’t be anything LIKE that at all. He’s going to stay like this until the age of 14, when he’ll transform overnight into a handsome, devilishly charming, suave, sophisticated man-about-town just like his dear old dad.
Uh, sandman,
That photo looks like you’ve got the kid out back o’ the shed, hangin’ upside down.
Just wonderin’ how well that works. 
And he may be a bit overdressed for today . . .
or is that part o’ the punishment?
Aw, sands, he’s a honey. Can’t wait to meet him. When are you going to start him on advanced fart noises?
And MT, they don’t come out of your chest, you know?
But look at his face. He LIKES it!
You might think he’s smilin’, but remember; he’s upside down!
I’ll show you when you get back here – he’s progressing like a house on fire in the fart noise department. He only does it when he’s cranky so far, but he never fails to crack a giggle when I do it, which is far, far too often for Jojo’s taste.
See? Not even 7 months old and we already have our own wee fart club that the women aren’t allowed into.