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Date: Thu, 26 Apr 2001 11: 00: 26 -0700
From: Rick Felix < firstname.lastname@example.org
Subject: [Fwd: Mean Parents]
LET'S HEAR IT FOR ALL THE MEAN PARENTS!!!
Someday when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a parent, I will tell them:
I loved you enough...to ask where you were going, with whom, and what time you would be home.
I loved you enough...to insist that you save your money and buy a bike for yourself even though we could afford to buy one for you.
I loved you enough...to be silent and let you discover that your new best friend was a creep.
I loved you enough...to make you go pay for the bubble gum you had taken and tell the clerk, " I stole this yesterday and want to pay for it."
I loved you enough...to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your room, a job that should have taken 15 minutes.
I loved you enough...to let you see anger, disappointment and tears in my eyes. Children must learn that their parents aren't perfect.
I loved you enough...to let you assume the responsibility for your actions even when the penalties were so harsh they almost broke my heart.
But most of all, I loved you enough...to say NO when I knew you would hate me for it. Those were the most difficult battles of all.
I'm glad I won them, because in the end you won, too. And someday when your children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates parents, you will tell them.............
Was your Mom mean? I know mine was. We had the meanest mother in the whole world! While other kids ate candy for breakfast, we had to have cereal, eggs, and toast. When others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie for lunch, we had to eat sandwiches. And you can guess our mother fixed us a dinner that was different from what other kids had, too.
Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were convicts in a prison. She had to know who our friends were, and what we were doing with them. She insisted that if we said we would be gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or less.
We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve to break the Child Labor Laws by making us work. We had to wash the dishes, make the beds,learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do laundry, empty the trash and all sorts of cruel jobs. I think she would lie awake at night thinking of more things for us to do. She always insisted on us telling the truth the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. By the time we were teenagers, she could read our minds.
Then, life was really tough! Mother wouldn't let our friends just honk the horn when they drove up. They had to come up to the door so she could meet them. While everyone else could date when they were 12 or 13,we had to wait until we were 16.
Because of our mother we missed out on lots of things other kids experienced. None of us have ever been caught shoplifting, vandalizing other's property or ever arrested for any crime. It was all her fault.
Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. We are doing our best to be mean parents just like Mom was. I think that is what's wrong with the world today. It just doesn't have enough mean parents.
PASS THIS ON TO ALL THE MEAN PARENTS YOU KNOW - AND THEIR CHILDREN AS WELL.
LET'S HEAR IT FOR ALL THE MEAN PARENTS...
A rather nice one from my buddy in Thousand Oaks, CA.
Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!"
Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice-cream! Why, I never!"
Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?" As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him.
An elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer."
"Really?" my son asked. "Cross my heart," the man replied. Then in a theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."
Naturally, I bought my kid's ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream
is good for the soul sometimes; and my soul is good already.
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