Back In Someone Else’s Day…

I believe children are the future, why? Well, because chronologically speaking they are, duh. I have a kid of my own. I try my best to provide a happy childhood all the while preparing him for a productive, industrious adulthood. I surely don’t want him living in my den, eating Cheetos, and wiping his orange powdery hands on my furniture as he watches Walker Texas Ranger all day. Cringe.

OF course you have to lick your fingers, who wants this crap on their fleshlight?

I for one do not let him have his way all the time, often times it’s not even a democracy in my house. As he gets older I plan on negotiating more but at five, let’s face it kids that age have terrible ideas. For example drawing all over their legs before pictures are taken.

Because tattoos are way cooler than marker, what are you a frat boy? Bro!

One weapon I have in my arsenal goes beyond the starving kids in China bit. For one thing, they can only have one kid…is it really that hard to feed one mouth? I wonder if their dinnerware is as toxic as the materials used for the goods they export to us. Always using lead paint and shit…’Merican made that’s the way to go. I love guns and the ten commandments, U.S.A.!

“How many stars?” “I don’t know, like 15, get to work or they put us in the pit of many shames!”

I want my kid aware of how shitty his predecessors had it, not so much me or my parents, not really even my grandparents (poor, but not destitute). Nope, I had it pretty cake and they didn’t necessarily suffer. Plus, my dad got to be a cool ass greaser. His hair was truly awesome.

My dad still breaks into choreographed song and dance , gets into knife fights, and drag races like, every day.

I think maybe Industrial Revolution Era children had just cause for insolence , dying their hair black and refusing to turn Depeche Mode off repeat long enough to eat family dinner.

“Leave me alone mom! I gonna sit in my room and draw pictures of fairy girls that are  prettier than me!”

In 19th century London, children as young as three years old were put to work. I am going to say right here: I better have made more wages than a toddler. The exploitation of child labor was regulated by four inspectors for all of  England . At least in 1831 the Whig party reduced the average child’s work day from 16 hours to 12 hours maximum, what a relief.

“I don’t care if you don’t know how to read I need you to edit 12,000 reports by Friday, and I don’t care that it’s Thursday! Yo Gabba Gabba? Forget it!

Without OSHA and an over enthusiastic dork of a general manager, there weren’t many safety regulations (My first manager would double thumbs up a job well done and actually say “Thumbs up, guys thumbs waaaay up!” Cringe.) It was not unusual for children to lose appendages, inhale toxic fumes, and die from injury and related illness. Yeah, school doesn’t look so bad. Doing a report on Hernando De Soto beats being crushed to death by a four ton mining cart full of coal.

“Yeah…If you could not maim yourself in our faulty, unsafe machinery…that would be great.”

I can’t wait to drop this tidbit of knowledge the next time my kid complains that I am taking to long deciding on bow-tie or elbow noodles. I mean, these kids were probably pretty miserable.

Yep. Except for far left, he’s the company cheerleader.

This kind of makes my dad’s tales of having to help build a stone wall and early life without television seem well, lame. I believe these kids walked barefoot in the snow, to punch that clock. So the next time my son whines, I may just drive by a local factory and tell him to wait in the car while I get him an application. I think he’ll change his tune.

Don’t call child services on me, I know child labor is no longer legal. That’s why he’ll make me money as a pageant kid, they have boy competitions too.

No one will EVER pick on this kid in school

13 responses to “Back In Someone Else’s Day…

  1. Love this! My Dad used to drive us thru the ‘hood to show us how good we had it. Luckily we were in the back seat and mostly just sleeping.

    • Our dad used to drive us through your neighborhood to show us which homes to break into. Sorry about that.

      • hahaha…. my parents said that it was easy to tell that our house had 4 kids in it and thus nothing worth stealing. Although way back in the day my mom used to hide the silver in the shower when we went on vacation. Don’t ask, I don’t know.

      • Our dad always told us to remember to check the shower. Now I know why!

  2. I would love a printout of what your mind does when you sleep. I imagine you have written novels in your sleep. Crazy lady.

  3. Oh my goodness this is RICH!

  4. Hilarious!! If you really want to get your son’s attention, tell him they definitely did not have Cheetos in the factory break room.

  5. Kids these days… throwing tantrums because they get their World of Warcraft accounts cancelled. In China, they’d be chained to a table and be made to play the game without food until they farmed enough gold to meet the daily quota!

    • ha ha, those poor kids in China! I’m not really sure I have ever read about them having such hunger problems as say Haiti, but it was always the standard. I love The Greatest Freak Out Ever videos, I don’t want to believe their fake, and even if they are those kids are really funny to me.

  6. My son thought that at age 13 he was being “abused” because I made him wear jeans from Goodwill, (never mind that summer he grew 6 inches in three months) he had a full-size (not a king-size) bed, and a 19 inch TV (not a big screen, so the Play Station games don’t have full resolution) on which I’d disabled the pay-per-view (but he still had premium cable.)

    He decided to share these allegations of neglect/abuse with his school guidance counselor, who is obligated by law to investigate any child’s accusations of abuse or neglect. She called both me and his Dad in, with Steve-o present as well, for a chat. Thankfully she was a reasonable person, who pretty much enlightened Mr. Steve-o that he was an ungrateful, indulged, spoiled brat, and that there’s a reason why some animal species eat their young.

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