The young mother working in the upholstery store in the trendy area of La Brea Avenue in Los Angeles asked about children in my household.
“Well,” she explained, “ You might want to consider a darker color and a very sturdy fabric.”
Was she suggesting kids in the house meant jumping on the couch I was re-doing and mistreating it with some other unimaginable behaviors?
“Yes,” she answered emphatically and went on to share the conversations she heard from parent customers.
The following tutorial ensued: people she knows call her strict because she doesn’t allow her 3-year-old to do whatever she wants; she is told to stop letting her child cry and to quickly give the 3-year old whatever will stop the tears.
My mouth, by then, was hanging open, and difficulty ensued when I attempted to verbally respond. But the young mother continued anyway, and told me of the mom she knew who would fix a meal for her youngster but when the child demanded something different,the mom would, if necessary, get in her car and drive to the store to purchase and then prepare the food items necessary to satisfy the kid.
The young mother suggested texting me a photo of the yardage I was considering for my front -room couch.
I assured her that even though I was an elder, I knew about texting and as I left the store I gave her a long great-grandmotherly gaze and said, “ Stick to your style of parenting, and congratulations for knowing who’s the boss.”
I don’t know enough about the children who are crossing our borders. And I know even less when it comes to the real issues behind the unrest in the Middle East. Well, I’ve got a hankering that we, the public, ain’t getting, as usual, the full story, so I’m not going to put my foot in my mouth on national and international issues as they relate to parents and their children.
Now whether Justin Ross Haris, the dad with the questionable persona actually cooked his baby boy , Cooper, in the hot car on purpose, I’m not ready to comment on until all the evidence is laid out in the courtroom.
In the meantime, I do know a heck of a lot about the subject of kids crying and parents giving in. And I know more than a lot when it comes to parents being in charge and not letting their kids rule the roost. And I know even more when it comes to the evils that accompany parents abdicating responsibility.
When I got to the Rocking Chair Store down the street at 3rd and La Brea, the topic of kids came up again as the store owner just happened to mention the mom whose kids ran through the store testing how the chairs glided or rocked.
“Mom didn’t make ‘em behave?” I foolishly asked.
“Not these days,” he said with wonderment.
“Parents are afraid to take charge.” he said with a look and a voice tone denoting disappointment.
I checked my cell phone for the fabric color that was sent from the upholstery shop so I could match up with the fabric for my new rocking chair.
I’m not, as yet, sure my colors are matching but I am sure that there are some members of our society out there who recognize that today’s parents have gone wild and that they are raising children who are just as untamed.