catching up

It has been a quiet week, except for the national, perhaps international, news of the family in Orlando (why do these stories always come out of Florida?) where the parents are "on strike." Lemme see. . .the kids didn't pitch in with chores, so Mom and Dad are sleeping in a tent on their driveway. The kids have the run of the house, and what passes for winter in Florida is arriving. Who is winning, here? This morning the paper ran photos of their messy bedrooms. Messy? I can see most of the floors. What's the problem? When our kids were growing up, we had some high priorities, like school work. They did their own laundry and fixed their own lunches for school, or suffered the consequences. But the bedroom mess was not our problem. We could always shut the doors, and we often did. As long as we didn't smell smoke, no problemo. As long as kept their school work up, no problemo.

Did that work? Well, let's add it up. Four kids. Four high school diplomas, four National Honor Society memberships. Four bachelors' degrees, two masters' degrees. One additional degree to become a Registered Nurse. Nobody got a degree for keeping a clean room. Four well-adjusted, happy, productive young adults living in Boston, Boulder, and San Francisco. If anybody is in therapy or having a drug or drinking problem, they haven't told me about it. They grew up loving and respecting each other, their parents, and their large extended family of cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Their mother did an excellent job of raising them. There were times when she thought about going on strike against me but, fortunately, we don't have a tent large enough for the mattress, air conditioner, refrigerator, TV, and sewing machine.