Monday, October 7, 2013

I'm Sorry Your Parents Failed You

Teen - "Hey, lady.  Do you know when the next train is coming?"

Lady Sitting on Bag of Something -  "Ohp!  It's actually scrolling right up here.  Let's see...Pink Line in 6 minutes.  Orange in 10."  

Teen - "Oh." 

Lady Sitting on Bag of Something - "You're welcome."

 Teen - "Does the Pink Line go to Kedzie?"  

Lady Sitting on Bag of Something - "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure."  

Teen - "Well, how am I supposed to figure out where I'm supposed to go?"  

Lady Sitting on Bag of Something - "Oh!  Easy.  Luckily, they post a map at every eL stop - they're super easy to navigate, and you can just look along the Pink Line to see if one stops where you need to go."  

Teen - "But I don't wanna look at a map."  

Lady Sitting on Bag of Something - "What do you want me to do then?"  

Teen - "Can't you look it up on your phone?"  

Lady Sitting on Bag of Something - "Not when the map is right there."  

Teen - "But I don't want to look at a map."  

Lady Sitting on Bag of Something - "It's seriously just right there.  It'll take two seconds."  

Teen - "Are you sure you don't know?  Can't you just go look at it for me?" 

Listen up, mother fucker, because I am going to give you something you have never once heard (or had someone stick to) in your privileged, young life: "NO."

I'm sorry that you are used to a life where you can ask, ask, and ask again to get your way.  I'm sorry that you were brought up in a generation that has been conditioned to throw fits in order to do so.  Most importantly, I'm sorry your parents failed you.

I know it must be hard to have a parent that is so "liberal" with their parenting styles.  They must have read so many books that told them that kids "these days" are in need of freedom to do what they want, when they want, and loudly deny things they don't, so their precious "psyche" isn't bruised.  I'm sure they make you at least 3 different dinners before you decide you're too tired to play games with them anymore, just so you can eat 2-4 bites of whatever is hastily, desperately thrown on your plate, then cry until you receive your cookies and second glass of milk.  I'm sure you have never had the experience of sitting at the table "until your plate is clean" for so long that you actually fall asleep into your plate.  A plate full of shit you hate, like real fucking food.  What the fuck is quinoa anyway?  Crunchy water?

See, kid, I come from this weird period of time when parents had these things called "rules" because they were too tired from working a job or two that they didn't have time to come home and do "household chores" or "fight with your teacher about why you denied taking your test because you were too emotional or tired."  My parents expected me do the chores.  They held me accountable for the grades I received, and if I had ever questioned a teacher, my ass would've had to write an apology letter, which they would insist I read in front of the entire class of the person I disrespected.  I took tests (tired, hungry, overly emotional - read "UNPREPARED") and though I was smart enough to manipulate my parents into things I thought I was getting away with (faking sick when I had a huge pimple on my face during Physics Club photo day), they knew better (my mother asked to see the vomit that I had "just puked" up while I was locked in the bathroom.  I spent several minutes telling her she was gross and that I had already flushed it before I decided I wasn't brave enough to endure sticking my fingers down my throat to produce anything worthwhile.  I then quietly got ready for my class picture with some stolen concealer and a dab of green eyeshadow.  I wasn't allowed to wear makeup, but my mother let that one slide). 

See, parents then were smart.  They were in charge.  They were parents.  They said things, then stuck to what they said, and through that I learned to respect not only adults, but my peers as well.  I learned to not argue or throw a fit when someone tells me "no," and most importantly, I learned the value of appreciating what I did have.  Also, I turned out just fine.  So if you want to learn a lesson in how good it feels to do something on your own, you can walk just riiiiiight over -

"I'm sorry what?  You're right; I am an old bitch.  Good luck on your life journey, you spoiled little fuck."

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