I grew up riding bad horses for entertainment. What we used to call fun.
Long before we knew it was dangerous, we also roped calves and rode them, when no parent was looking. When they were looking, we ended up shoveling enough horse and cow manure for several lifetimes, because we were kids, and needed discipline. My parents believed in being accountable for their horde of daughters, How strange.
Twenty some thing kids complain that they don’t have enough money, good cars, and prestige. So what? If instant Gratification is the norm, heaven forbid you ever have to break a sweat. Kid’s doing hard work? Not fair. It may damage their fragile ego’s to actually be accountable. Get over it, let go of the delusion that you are owed wealth and prestige.
When the kid’s post school friends sit at our table and tell us how unfair life is, I have to bite my tongue because I am politically incorrect. If they see me laugh, it may damage them. One of the twenty something darlings owed the world actually wore a designer sweat shirt that said “F**K you All†on it, to our house. I said that I was personally offended by it. He left in a big huff. He didn’t think that it might be offensive to me. He didn’t consider it. He didn’t care either.
I don’t consider it to be a reality, that those kids fortunate enough to graduate from college are handicapped by not being placed immediately into upper management jobs.
How deluded out of touch I am to think that hard work coupled with an investment of time brings prosperity. That with out accountability there is no growth. That personal passion for what we do is an investment into our selves.