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Spoiled Children Make Rotten Adults |
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Friday, 15 December 2006 |
When I was a single father of four daughters during the
1980s & early 90s, my biggest challenge was outside interference from
female friends and relatives. Many considered me coldhearted because I didn't
rush to their aid each time they scraped a knee or pricked a finger; nor did
spoil them with the expectation of presents for every birthday and holiday that
came around. I bought them presents and special treats but my sporadic gifts
were never predicated by the calendar on the wall. During Christmas or Thanksgiving
seasons we occasionally volunteered at homeless shelters or churches. The girls
served food while I helped setup tables and/or performed poetry for the
indigent guests. I heard rumors of cruelty from family members.
 Richard O. Jones
I would take my daughters to the grocery store and teach
them to stretch a dollar by shopping for sale items and avoid the sugary lures.
I was told that I was making them think like poor people. By eight years old
each girl was responsible to shop for the week's grocery, with only thirty
dollars maybe thirty-five, while I sat in the car. They were trained to check
the receipt and count their change. My sisters and mother were ready to turn me
in to Child Protective Service for cruelty. My younger sister had two teenage
boys who had never been shopping alone without a grocery list written by their
mother.
Each of my daughters, while still in elementary school, had
an official California ID from the Department of Motor Vehicles and their own
savings account at the bank. Each had certain duties in the house in which they
received an allowance to do; none received money simply because they were cute.
They also received money for each grade on their monthly progress report card
that I requested from the school. My friends and relatives opposed this because
they considered it bribing my daughters to do well. I considered it incentive.
Before they were ten years old, each were purchasing and
filling out money orders and sending them in to pay various utility bills, with
my money of course. Once a week we would go out to eat, each girl would be
given a turn to choose the restaurant of the week. The younger girls were
partial to hamburgers but the older two often chose real diners such as
Denny's, Marie Calendar's, or Coco's, etc. The
complaints from my team of outside critics was that I was giving them too much
freedom.
My daughters are now very well adjusted adults. Neither
daughter measures love by material means or feels morally obligated to buy me
or anybody else presents on certain days; however they show their love in godly
ways. In closing, don't surrender to the critics if you're not pampering your
children but raising them to be responsible.
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