Demanding boy brat at supermarket

Unfortunately, that kind of behavior is all too typical now. I'm sure as a result of attachment parenting and not being able to say no. Kids are the heads of the household these days. Can't you just wait until these spoiled entitlement brats become adults? Yuck!!!

______________

- The human gene pool could use a little chlorine

I appreciate that this is a first-hand story, something that happened TO one of the people posting here, no matter how short it may be.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"I have learned that pleasing everyone is impossible, but pissing everyone off is easy and fun as hell"

:eatu

Certainly when I was growing up, any sentance that started with the words "I want" were punishable if they were uttered in public. Children should not be allowed to voice 'wants' in public unless they are asked. Period. Because they are not important enough to matter. Understood?

- - - - - - - -
"The death of creativity is a pram in the hallway"
- Cyril Connolly

About two months ago, I witnessed an actual parent disciplining her whining rugrat. There is a small mom and pop supermarket in our small town, and I have seen the mom and sprog in the store occasionally. Usually, the kid is quiet or minding the mother, but not this time. Sprogley wanted a candybar and whined about it. The mother told him to stop whining or else he "would get it". Sprogley whined one more time, and the mother quietly put down the item she was looking at, turned the brat around and smacked its ass firmly. The brat immediately shut its mouth and got that "oh shit!" look on its face. He quietly put the candy bar back and apologized to the mother. Discipline does happen, but unfortunately only when you have a very rare encounter with a PNB.

Good point, Amethyst. The bottom line is that children should be seen and not heard. I was not allowed to throw tantrums in public, throw shit in the cart my mom didn't want, yell "I WANT that!"...This is the way the brats should be raised. If parents did that, the level of resentment and dislike of breeders and shitlings would not be as high as it is. The child-rearing practices began to go downhill in the 60s and really tanked afterwards. Oh sure, there were parents like mine, DHs and many of the posters here, but too few which is why this shit is perpetuated.

However this shit with the AP, elimination communication (let 'em shit anywhere and anytime), tit feeding til ? and gentle discipline is new to me. If it existed when I was younger, it sure was kept hush-hush (I babysat a shit load of kyds from different famblees in the 60s and 70s but never saw the shit I'm hearing about here. Shit, most of the parents basically had a belt on the table and said "If you need to, don't hesitate to use it" Never had to, prolly because the kyds had had the fear of god put into 'em about "obeying Merlyn while we're gone.").

My parents didn't put up with any of that shit. We were told no once and after that, no holds barred.

Remember when we were out in public with our parents, we had to stay beside them at all times and not wander off and horseplay was not allowed.

Quote
nosilla
Remember when we were out in public with our parents, we had to stay beside them at all times and not wander off and horseplay was not allowed.

Those were the days, Nosilla!

I had to tell a kid yesterday to lower her voice in a museum. They don't parent anymore, they really don't.

We had to yell at a brat at the laundromat yesterday to keep him from messing with our hamper. Duh was nowhere around while the kid was running wild, but the moment we raised our voice he was there in a flash to glare at us. We glared back and told him to control his kid. He was pissed at us, but it falls under the category of "I don't give a damn what you think".

I think I still have the nail marks on my neck, just below my chin, where my mom would pinch the shit out of me if I ever made a 'scene' in public. It would be one warning, "Stop making a scene!" and then *pinch* and *drag*. Owies.

Anyone know the scene in "Terms of Endearment" when she's telling her son to go to the car 'cause she's talking to that guy?

"Go to the car honey..."

Kid whines...

"Go to the car honey."

Whine whine...

"GO to the CAR, HONEY."

Whiiiine...

"GO TO THE CAR, HONEY! GO TO THE CAR, HONEY!" As she's chasing him! HAHAHA! Then the guy she's with goes, "Nice kids...and you're so good with them, too. Hehehehe...

Yea, the movie's sappy but that scene is hilarious.

My mom used to grab my ear and lead me out of the situation when I misbehaved. I am surprised my ears do not look like Dumbo's. After she dragged me out of the situation, either I would get a spanking or other punishment and I quickly learned never to act up again in that manner.

I honestly think that most brats today are beyond discipline, because the moo and duh are quick to apologize for any discipline they apply. It used to be the reverse--brats would apologize for their bad behavior knowing that a second offense would merit an unthinkable punishment. Not now.

I do not have the answer, but until breeders are publicly berated and humiliated for the atrocious job they are doing raising their packs of entitlement-poisoned brats, nothing will change.

My mom was a big fan of the forearm grab. I acted up, she'd tell me to knock it off and if I'd continue, she'd drop everything right there, grab my forearm and drag my ass away for a brief spanking and a time out by myself in the car. Then she'd return to the store, pay for whatever was in the cart and we'd go home, where I'd get reminded the reason why there was no milk (or koolaid, cheese or whatever) was because we had to leave shopping early because I was acting like an ass in public. She didn't have to do this even 10 times before I'd learned how to behave in public, so I know it's not that hard.

"It truly is the one commonality that every designation of humans you can think of has, there's at least one asshole."
--Me

My mom was a fan of the "pinch 'n twist". I'd act up, and she'd pinch my upper arm and twist hard. Painful, and it worked. Especially when you're a skinny kid without much meat to pinch.

At home, the wooden spoon would threaten to make an appearance quite often. It was no worse than the garden variety smacks on the rear, however.