Something to be thankful for.

After meeting and talking to people much younger than myself it seems that many were raised a hell of a lot differently than I was. I guess it started with my generation. I knew kids that never used a washing machine, learned to change the oil in the family car or mow a lawn.

It all started when I was about five years old. My mom and dad would send me into the grocery store by myself with a list. I was scared shitless. Luckily, people were pretty nice back then and would help me out. I had to order my own shit over the phone, write letters and figure out all my own problems. Anytime I asked a question, mom and dad pointed me to the dictionary, phone book or encyclopedia.

Pretty early on I learned not to ask questions and just do it for myself..

When I was eight years old, my dad handed me a box of spark plugs, a ratchet, and a gapper and told me to give his car a tune up. It took me all day and after several attempts , backfires and the car not starting, I finally got it right. Pretty soon it was my job to maintain the family junkers. It was hard work but I felt a sense of pride that I could do something grown up all by myself.

I used to envy the lucky bastards that didn't have to do shit around the house and had mom do their laundry and wipe their asses. Their families had mechanics while I had to crawl under and install a starter in a Ford Fairmont so mom could get to work the next morning. I hated yard work, scrubbing toilets and installing ceiling fans. I fucking h-a-t-e-d it.









We had a new gas mower but mom thought I would cut my hands and feet off which would force her off her ass to take me to the hospital. Her brilliant idea was to buy me a rusted up old 1940's manual push mower at a garage sale. I had to get a running start off the patio to cut each three foot swath of grass. An hour job usually lasted all day. God, I hated that shit.

Growing up, I spent countless hours with appliances disassembled, a paintbrush in my hand or doing some other dastardly disgusting chore. Tom Sawyer was a fucking pussy with his gay whitewash. I couldn't bribe the neighborhood kids to paint dick. My self pity was overwhelming. It just wasn't fucking fair that I was forced to do all these crazy assed adult chores while mom and dad lounged in their robes reading the Sunday paper.

I thought I was the unluckiest kid in the world and swore that once I moved away that I would NEVER do this kind of shit again or force my kids to do it.

I was so fucking happy when I got out of mom and dad's house. It was like a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Paying bills, working and keeping a household were child's play compared to the crap I had to do before.

But slowly, as time went on, I found myself fixing my car on the side of the road, helping stranded motorists, not having the money for a new washing machine and having to repair it myself, painting, electrical work, water pumps, plumbing etc.. all that shit I hated came back to haunt me in my adult life.

There was a difference though. I could do it. I knew how and didn't have to suffer needlessly and be at the mercy of some crooked repairman who was ready to shake me down like so many other helpless fools.

The hard shit I was forced to endure had actually paid off. I wasn't helpless and dependent like so many of my peers. The added benefit was not fearing the unknown and having the self confidence to jump into the middle of something rip it apart and make the sonovabitch work again.

These days I work along side my kids or at least supervise them. I don't want them growing up helpless. I don't want them growing up hating my ass either.

I know I should thank my parents, but I probably won't, I'm not so sure their motives were completely pure and heck, they had a free handyman for all those years. I'm willing to call it even.