When living in an apartment it has generally been an acceptable practice to take out the garbage on time, pay the electric and gas bills on time, and generally be a good neighbor to all of your fellow homosapiens. Another general practice is to make sure that the children that you have bore both in and out of wedlock are properly disciplined.
Now, back when I was a kid this meant listening to your mother, playing nicely with your siblings and doing what you were told. Back when I was a kid, if you did not do what you were told, Papa would come home and show you the wrath of God which usually resulted in you thinking twice the next time you decided to defy an order. If you were stupid enough to do the same thing more than twice then it was usually time to stop using the belt and starting using more inanimate objects: the door, the wall, a lawn chair.
When I moved into my new apartment in August, despite all of the usual expectations of an apartment in Newark, it was actually a rather pleasant experience. I had escaped the wrath of Residence Life deciding to turn on the air conditioning about the three weeks too late and a maintenance request taking longer than the trip to candy mountain to be serviced. The benefits most definitely outweighed the costs (and trust me, Residence Life despite all of their falters during my tenure there did not drop the ball when it came to that $750 cancellation fee).
That was until I found out there were two inexperienced parents living upstairs who decided to have children a little too early in their “relationship” (in quotes because I do not fully understand the situation regarding Mommy and Daddy). This meant that while I was watching a football game I had the second floor menaces screaming at the top of their lungs and playing their own game of “Who could be the loudest during the Giant’s football game?”
I am a firm supporter of parents having the ability to beat their children. The recent teachings about being a good “parent” and using “positive” reinforcement helps the development of children. We are living in an age where parents are scared to discipline their student because some gung-ho grammar school teacher will report them to child services.
I envision a future where we will begin outsourcing he beatings of our children to a paid service so that the liabilities can be transferred via ink on a paper. Because we are living in a world where we do not like to be responsible for our actions. But not I, because beating my child is one privilege of parenthood that I am absolutely looking forward to – DYFS, I’ll send you an IOU.
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