I’m sure you’re wondering why you are receiving this note. Frankly, I am appalled and disappointed in you. You are setting a terrible precedent for the children in the community.
Your writing, in fact, is a stunning example of abuse to the English language. What did the poor semi-colon ever do to you? You should not be distributing such material to impressionable children this Halloween season.
My hope is that you will step up as a neighbor, pull the broom out of your ass, and fly away on it. You certainly should not be allowed to continue this uneducated publishing habit.
PS. If you don’t want to hand out candy, turn off your porch light like an adult and mind your own damn business. Maybe you are familiar with the phrase, “opinions are like assholes”?
For full disclosure, my kid is not anyone’s idea of ‘moderately obese’. He’s a skinny kid just like I always was. And yet, this still irks me.
The saving grace is that these kids have the chance to grow up to be beautiful human beings. She will have to live with her own ugliness that is inside.
Granted, I’m not exactly tall at 5’4″, but that’s still something of a milestone. Any day now, he’ll be taller. He may already be stronger, but I’m still meaner so it works out. And I still out weigh him, but we don’t have to talk about that.
Just 14 short years from being a tiny 5lbs 12oz baby boy to a strapping young man that speaks in a baritone. This child that I would protect with every fiber of my being can now lift me off the ground. It’s kind of a sobering thought. He has now reached a point in his development where I must trust that we’ve taught him well. I couldn’t restrain him physically if I wanted to (well maybe, but I’d have to employ some dirty tricks. Not that there has been a need to do so.). His dad still can, but I can’t.
Now, I know my son and trust him to continue on the track he’s been on. I’m very proud of the man he is growing up to be. He is sweet and gentle and fun to be around. It’s pretty awesome to look eye to eye with this boy that is rapidly becoming a man.
It’s an interesting process, parenting. When they are small, you are everything to your children. Provider, protector, teacher, enforcer, etc. As they get older, they take on more and more of those responsibilities for themselves. If we are doing our jobs right as parents, our children will leave our homes holding all their own reigns. Hopefully able to to find their own way with the guidance we’ve given them. One day, it’s sink or swim. As a parent, I pray I’ve taught him the right strokes. I don’t just want him to stay afloat either; I want him to fly.
And one day, I’ll have to let him loose to do it. That day isn’t here yet, but it gets closer every day.
We’ve all had that moment when your kid outs you. Maybe they told your mother-in-law that you cleaned up cat vomit with the decorative hand towels she bought you (towels are tools, not decorations IMHO). Maybe they spoiled the surprise of the awesome one-of-a-kind whatchamadoodle you were hoping to make Grandma’s birthday extra special. And that moment that must never be spoken of again? Well, if your kid heard it, it will be spoken of.
They’ve told your secrets. Repeated all the things you’d like to pretend you don’t really say. They are like tiny parrots with no concept of time and place. One day, you look over and there is your facial expression, your mannerisms, and your words spilling out of a smaller mouth shaped not entirely unlike yours.
Thankfully, this usually just ends in embarrassment. Unless you’re this guy. I’d love to make it my quote of the day, but you will enjoy it far more in the context of the article.
I have been attempting to eliminate this particular usage of the word free from my vocabulary because it just isn’t true. It’s an over simplification which far too many people have accepted as fact. People have ceased to understand that although there are things that they can obtain at no cost to themselves, they do not exist without cost.
It’s not an easy transition. It would be simple to state that you can ride the bus in my city for free, but it’s not exactly true. As a taxpayer in my city, I’ve already paid for the use of the city bus. So instead I refer to it as already paid for.
Many of us refer to the content on our sites as ‘free ice cream.’ And indeed, I provide my content to you without charge. But it certainly not without cost. I pay money for my domain name and my hosting. I spend my valuable time reading and thinking up things to put out here for your consumption. It’s not without value, instead it is something of value that I provide to you for no charge. You have the option to throw coin my way, but it is far from required. And yes, those ads hanging out over on the side bar do help to offset my monetary investment in my little corner of the internet. They wouldn’t if you didn’t visit. And truly, the return on my investment is far greater than any dollars earned. I started a blog as a pressure release valve. I got that. The value of the community/family was unexpected and immeasurable in dollars. Really, I am indebted to all of you for that.
The free part of this blog is the freedom I have to say what I want. To put it out there to be consumed. I am free to speak (type) my mind. I am free to share my opinions. I feel I owe it to my son to clarify the definitions. Hopefully, he will still have these freedoms when he is an adult. He won’t if people continue to believe that anything of value exists without cost.
I know it’s a little thing, but I cringe when I hear people talking about ‘free’ healthcare, ‘free’ phones, ‘free’ lunches. When a community comes together to help out one of their own, it is a beautiful thing to be celebrated. Handouts so generously provided on the backs of taxpayers are just polished up slavery.
In an attempt to help the TeenBot improve both his writing skills and intellectual curiosity, we assigned him a project for the summer. He was to research and put together an essay (ish) on the history of the Soviet Union. We’ve spent countless hours talking through some high points and adjusting the assignment.
And he digs in his heels and does nothing. It’s frustrating to say the least.
But at least my son is here to be frustrated with. He can confound and irritate and then shock and amaze. Sometimes all in one breath. Each of those shiny silver strands that have started to appear on my head are a treasure, purified in the fire that is parenthood.