Did you know that you can fly from Kansas City to Philadelphia non-stop for $266? You can. It’s one of those things you have to be aware of when there’s a lot of distance between you. The lovely Jenna has offered to give me the “tour of Philly.” I guess it’s so I can calm my nerves before she donates her kidney to me in July. What a giver she is. Although it might be a good idea to see if we have the same blood type before we start exchanging organs…
No extra charge… pink shirt picture:
Anyhoo… my canine sidekicks have decided that freedom is better than captivity, even though I’ve long tried to teach them that “Work is freedom.” They aren’t buying it. They have now tasted freedom, and they liked it. My neighbor’s fence is in bad shape, and my dogs are able to push the slats out of the way and make a run for it. Thankfully my astute neighbors lured them back to my prison camp where I force them to eat treats and peanut butter all day.
I do not want to get into the cycle of having them escape and having my neighbors chasing them around while I’m at work. I’d hate to have to lock them up, but I will if it’s for their own good.
And that brings me to today’s subject… child rearing.
Now that I have raised two pups, I feel that I am an authority on the subject. Really, how different can it be from raising kids? They make too much noise, you whack’em upside the head. They get into something they shouldn’t, you whack’em with a shoe. They run away, you drag them back to the house by the scruff of their neck. If they sit quietly, they get a treat.
Do I pretty much have it?
There are those that say spanking is child abuse. I prefer to think of it as the “board of education meeting the seat of knowledge.” There are even some very smart people who claim you can reason with a whiny 4 year old. I beg to differ, but I’m open to any option that actually works. Somehow I’m pretty sure that the only portion of the brain that a 4 year old has really developed is the pain subsystem. “Oh… every time I kick and scream, I feel this strange pain on my buttocks…. I’d better stop.”
I say this, because when I was a child, the threat of “time out” did not intimidate me. I was quite content sitting on a chair thinking up new mischief. However, the threat of physical pain always made me think twice. My parents always used the double whammy… my mom would put me in the corner, and make me stay there until my dad got home. That was bad news, because when my dad would find me in the corner, he always seemed to side with my mom. That meant physical pain was soon to be had. My mom didn’t care how early in the day it was… if I was bad at 8 in the morning, it meant a long, long trip to the corner.
All that to say, just like in international relations… you try to reason with these idiotic people, for example the Iraqis, Saudis and Europeans… eventually you just have to go whoop their ass. Reason and diplomacy will only take you so far. Tactical nuke works every time.