Many years ago when my son was about 7yo and he and I were at Coronet Peak I had a problem with both of us. He's now in his forties. We both used bad language and I felt this was undesirable so we agreed that when he used a swear word he would get a smack on the bottom and when I swore he would get five cents.
This worked well for a few days until on reaching the bottom of Happy Valley{?} he really tore into me saying I was a cheat and dispicable bastard. This was amongst a crowd and I was extremely embarrased. I'm sure that he picked his time for the outburst because he is a brainy so-and-so taking after his mother.
The problem was that I had been working a sort of profit and loss account in my mind, balancing my swear words against his. This meant that he was missing out of the five cents for my words.
I guess when you consider his mother had made him some very ample ski-trousers a smack through them was not to be bothered about but missing out of numerous 5 cents was a serious matter.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment