You were acting on a parental suggestion. Me, I just stuck a key in a socket to see what would happen.
Of course I had my hand properly insulated. Luckily there was a limit to my stupidity.
You were acting on a parental suggestion. Me, I just stuck a key in a socket to see what would happen.
Of course I had my hand properly insulated. Luckily there was a limit to my stupidity.
Iâd be more worried about the psychic wounds of grandparents laughing at the kid.
Exactly. Non-life-threating (or life-changing, or otherwise dire) situation. Explain implications. If child (or adult!) goes and does it anyway, well, they should have listened!
Someone else made a point about the grandmotherâs jovial tone and how that could have been misleading; I think thereâs a double lesson therein.
Not everyone is laughing with youâŚ
And youâre right; this was totally non-life threatening, if not the tiniest bit sadistic.
But thatâs what family is for, right?
Weâre helicopter spectating.
I think this is the right approach for situations that actual harm isnât involved.
Zero. It is called life. Sometimes you laugh at them and sometimes they laugh at you. Welcome to family.
On the painful parenting scale (or grand-parenting) I gottaâ think that anyone who puts this above ânotâ just hasnât lived life to the fullest.
And hopefully the sinus infection isnât hose-MRSA* which eats into her brain and makes her so delirious that she wanders out of sight. And hopefully then she doesnât get picked up by the many Predators lurking for just such a situationâŚbecause then grandma would be very sorry she didnât helicopter her more.
* almost certainly not a thing...but how certain are you? 99.9%? Is that safe enough? Better safe than sorry, you know.
To each their own, and I totally get itâs not something everyoneâs in a position to do whether because they need help as a single working parent or their parents need their help or other responsibilities. But not wanting to leave home seems so bizarre to me. My folks were decent parents, but by the time I left home, first to boarding school, then to the opposite coast for college, I couldnât wait to live on my own. CuzâŚ
I had it played the other way. At a family dinner, weâd had Schnapps with the meal, and as I was cleaning up in the kitchen, I hear my five year old say âHey, daddy!â I turn around just in time to see him holding up a full shot glass. I start to yell âNO!â across the room, but itâs too late: he downs it in a single gulp.
I come leaping across the room prepared to deal with a scream of agony along with possible projectile vomiting while I see my sonâs eyes widen as he sees me charging.
And then my brother falls over, barely able to breath because heâs laughing so hard. My son is going âDaddy, are you all right?â
My younger brother had filled a shot glass with water and then told my son to get my attention and down the glass, telling my son âdo you want to see Daddy jump?â
My son was in awe of my brothers predictive powers for several years. Fifteen years later, he still vividly remembers the look of horror on my face.
Meanwhile I wait, biding my time, for my (much younger) brother to have kidsâŚ
Now I have to figure out how to get candy cigarettes into my brotherâs kids hands when he eventually decides to procreate. Heâs always wanted a family, I might as well make it interesting.
Iâm sure the economy has nothing to do with that.
A wise man once told me, âExperience is something you donât get until right after you needed it.â
At that age, youâre programmed to learn from experience, not from being told. But maybe Grandma could have laughed a little less.
Grew up on a farm and Iâm wondering why the hell this is being asked. Itâs a garden hose, not a firehose. If itâd been with a nozzle attached i might have some concern over eye damage but even then itâs part of learning and growing up.
What was the problem? Some of my earliest memories are my grandfather feeding me shots of blackcurrant Schnapps whenever my grandmother and mom werenât looking, and I turned out justâŚ
Oh, right, I see what you were getting at. Takes me a minute, for some reason.
Around the age of 4 I snuck into my parentsâ room and took a nice big lick of the mink oil on their dresser, unable to believe their repeated indications that it was not in fact sour cream and onion dip (similar color and container shape).
In the words of Melody Gardot: âSome lessons we learn the hard way.â
Pop tells a tale of watching me (at about that age, or maybe a little younger) with a paper clip, going around the room using it to poke at things. He considered whether or not to stop me when I got to the electrical outlet, and decided against it. Bzzzt! He knew I wouldnât be seriously hurt, and you betcha I never did that again!
I feel morally obliged to point out that doing that in some other countries will get you killed or permanently injured.