Quote:
Originally Posted by stanleychief
I've got no kids, but I do have a story.
When I was 19 years old, I was kicked out of my father's house. It was one of the best things that have happened to me. At the time, I was doing drugs and hanging out with the wrong crowd. One night, I had a massive party when my father went out of town, and the house got wrecked. That was the final straw. He told me that the free ride was over, to pack my shit and get out.
I stayed with some friends for a bit. I had to shuffle around a few times, so as not to wear out my welcome. It was quite clear that the free ride was indeed over. None of my friend's parent's seemed to want to permanently house and feed another kid. Go figure.
I got an apartment with a friend of mine. My father helped by cosigning for me to be able to get it. I had to work two jobs to pay rent & utilities, cover food and extremely minimal entertainment. It was a great life lesson. Instead of resenting him, I finally understood that working sucks, and that it sucks even more when you are a single parent raising an ungrateful kid.
It also didn't take very long before I realized that I should get a skilled job that paid more, so that I didn't have to work two crappy jobs to make ends meet. I found a job doing something that I liked, and the rest is history.
Maybe it was a different time. Maybe my case is the exception to the rule. I never once blamed my father for booting me out. I knew that I deserved a kick in the ass. We have a great relationship to this day. I grab a beer with my father probably every other weekend.
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Times will never change when it comes to men disciplining their sons. I got my ass handed to me at 17 when I convinced my gf to ditch school so we could hang out at her house (her folks worked). We’d say we were sick or had DR appt or stupid crap - a private HS is a tight knit place where teachers figure stuff out quickly. I lied to them and my folks before it unraveled. Dad grounded me 3 months, took my car keys, banned me from the baseball team and mom took my private phone line.
A couple days later the principal got me at lunch and wanted a word. Walked me to the library where prob 10 teachers were sitting. My dad was standing and said
“You’ve got an apology to make”. The cherry on top was that night when he said
“Bitch, you get your car back for one night tomorrow”. Really? “Yeah, you’re going over the Jenny’s house to apologize to her parents for disrespecting them. And you’re wearing your blazer and khakis”I can still remember ringing the doorbell and hearing her dad walk. I knew it was him becasue a man’s steps are slower, and heavier. I wanted to die.
Moral of the story: Mecca needn’t worry about this kids “feelings” or psyche or depression or what may happen down the road. That’s the boys problem - only Mecca’s wife matters here.