Day 73: Who’s the boss … the parents or the child?

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 73: Who’s the boss … the parents or the child?

The question ‘Should parents be allowed to smack their child?’ was recently posted on Facebook. A string of comments followed. The younger generation was against corporal punishment, the older generation saw nothing wrong with it.

I see nothing wrong with it either. When a child misbehaves, how else are parents to exercise discipline? Some might say that sending a child to their room is punishment. What a joke that is. Most kids have plenty of entertainment in their bedroom, so what do they care if they have to spend an extra couple of hours there.

Back in my day, we feared our parents. Dad never hit, he had the hands of a boxer and feared his own strength. So mam was the one to watch out for. She didn’t hit often, but when she did it was usually deserved. Sometimes she didn’t even have to hit, she just had to give us 'the look' and we knew we were skating on thin ice.

Just as a picture is worth a thousand words, so is one smack. Parents can talk and talk to their kids until the cows come home and the words will go in one ear and out the other. Raise your hand though and kids will know you mean business. Without this kind of discipline, parental authority has become a joke and kids become hooligans. They know that parents can’t lay a hand on them, and they take full advantage of it.

Just how little authority parents have over their kids became clear yesterday.

I was in the waiting room of St. Michael’s Family Practice where a sign was on display reading:

“For the sake of other patient’s health, please wear a mask if you are coughing or experiencing any other signs of a cold. Thank you.”

A woman in her late twenties walked in with a small boy. I’m guessing the child was four or five years old. While the mother registered, the boy – who had a bad cough - took a seat in the waiting room.  When she was finished with the receptionist, the woman called her boy so she could fit him with a mask. He refused.

She explained to him that because he had a cough, he had to wear a mask. Again, he refused. The woman’s response … okay then.

The boy spent about 15 minutes in the waiting room, coughing his head off. This annoyed me to no end. When adults give a tiny cough or sneeze, they are forced to wear a mask before they can sit in the waiting room, but here was this obviously sick child and he was free to spread his germs wherever he pleased. And not only was he coughing, not once did the mother tell him to keep his hand in front of his mouth. Now that’s just bad parenting. If this had been my child, he would have worn a mask whether he liked it or not.

Later on, as mother and son were preparing to leave, something equally annoying happened. As they were putting on their coats, the mother asked the son “How do you want to go home? By cab or by subway?”  Who the hell cares what the kid wants. She is the mother. She makes the decisions. Whatever next? Will she ask him what time he wants to go to bed? Or what she can watch on TV?

On the subway, on the way home I met another annoying mother and child. This mother was also in her late twenties with a kid of about three years old. He came running onto the train and headed straight for the seat next to me. Instead of sitting down, he clambered onto the seat and sat on his knees to look out the back window. Now much to see except for a dark tunnel, but okay.

I wouldn’t have minded, except that he couldn’t sit still for more than 10 seconds, and every time he twisted and turned he wiped his filthy wet boots on my pants.

What annoyed me about this woman was, not only did she not discipline her child, she was paying no attention to him, she was too busy texting. Eventually, when she took a break from her phone, I gave her ‘the look’ and it worked like a charm. She could see that I've had it with her brat and if she didn't take charge of the situation, I would.

On the other hand, I encountered no less than three Oriental couples with their child and not a word of a lie, all three children – ranging from 3 to 6 years old – were perfectly behaved. No screaming, no running, no squirming in their seat. They sat quietly next to their parents, keenly observing what went on around them. I have no idea whether they were Chinese, Japanese, Korean or Vietnamese, but it seems to me Western parents can learn a thing or two from their Asian counterparts.

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