Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll has some advice about RAISING KIDS AND CHICKENS. She writes:

For a couple of decades now, our betters have inveighed against “inhumane” raising of chickens and promoting “free-range chickens.” Now I am not a fan of being cruel to ANY of God’s creatures, big or small, with the exception of scorpions and Communists (but I repeat myself). Haha. I kid the Communists.

I have to change the channel when the puppy mill ads come on. But I have seen chickens up close and personal and frankly prefer to see them naked, roasting in a pan. As a small child on my grandma’s farm, I was often prevailed upon to enter the squawky, feathery, smelly chicken coop with a basket and try to reach under the hens without getting pecked to death. The hens seemed rather protective of their eggs and resisted the little hands prodding them to move aside. As a further deterrent to pilfering their eggs, it seemed to me they were deliberately pooping on the eggs, like prison inmates who spit on their food.

It was not a job I enjoyed at all. When I would come into the house with, maybe, three eggs, one broken, Grandma would sigh and go herself, coming back in about 30 seconds with enough eggs for all of us for breakfast. When those hens saw Grandma coming, they lived up to their name as “chickens.” I will say this – there was NOTHING like the taste of those fresh eggs.

Grandma’s chickens roamed freely throughout the yard pecking at everything, squawking and complaining incessantly, like members of The Squad, only smarter and less arrogant. They never really seemed very happy with their lives, in the coop or out.

But Grandma had a twin sister and HER chickens were Extremely Free Range. Auntie Iva’s chickens were allowed IN THE HOUSE. They had to be shooed off the dining room table before we could eat. No wonder I have such a tremendous immune system!

So why, over the last 15 months and counting, has it been considered good for chickens to roam about, but to have children locked in their homes while teachers get paid for failing to teach, instead of the popular current practice of teaching to fail? Thank God the Teachers’ Union is in charge. If students had school choice, how in the world would the black kids learn that they are too oppressed to take the “racist” ACT or even too stupid to locate a place to get an I.D. to vote? How would white kids grasp that they are singularly privileged and evil and responsible for slavery, including the 9 million slaves still in Africa today?

Anyway, with Father’s Day coming up on Sunday, I thought I would throw out for general discussion a few thoughts on Child Raising. With particular attention to the incalculable importance of Daddies. My shorthand philosophy of child-raising is that it is a careful balance of threats and bribes overlaid with unconditional love. BEING THERE is the key step.

Did you ever notice that in ANY discussion of mothers, but particularly SINGLE mothers, you always hear two words, almost as a mantra: STRONG, INDEPENDENT women? So, “strength” and “independence” are prized qualities in women according to The People Who Decide Such Things. When was the last time you saw in print the phrase, “strong, independent men”? (I’ll wait…) MEN are never described positively as “strong”, which is seen as a threat, not an asset. And “independence” in men is not prized at all in Femi-Ninny World, lest the men grow a spine and disagree with the women who love bossing us around.

Yeah, I’m tired of that. “Strength” – of character, of adherence to values, of an ability to get through tough times, even just regular muscular, jar-opening strength – is equally good in both men and women. Many people HAVE had “strong, independent” mothers, especially if their husbands died or left them. God bless them all. But so have many of us had strong fathers, which was a blessing as well. And I have known several MEN who did all the hard work of raising children after the birthing persons, who all just happened to be women – what are the chances? — decided they couldn’t be bothered any more. (By the way, if a woman pretending to be a man can still technically be called a “birthing person,” what do you call a man pretending to be a woman? An “impregnating person”? Rachel? Anybody?) Insanity!

I have mentioned before that growing up in small town Minnesota, I did not know a single classmate whose parents were divorced. Surely, there must have been some. I had a favorite aunt who had married a man who was divorced. My dear auntie turned out to be a very accomplished birthing person who produced five kids and was married to him till he passed away as an “old guy” in his late 60s. (Or as I would describe it now, “MUCH too young.”)

Finally, as a gift to current parents, here is my Instructional Google Translate version of Parent-Speak in the 50s when this geezer was a kid:

There are clearly far too many young people today who apparently have NEVER been told “No” to anything, even such obvious things as “No, you can’t loot; no, you can’t burn down the police station; no, you can’t take a massive student loan and then not repay it.”

Boys in particular need a father because at some point, most boys cannot be adequately controlled by most women. Are there exceptions? Of course. We have all seen video of righteous large ladies dragging their mortified sons off from mostly-peaceful looting, but, in general, testosterone will win the day. Mostly, boys need a father to teach them how to be proper men and fathers themselves. “Role models” as the expression goes. Sports figures are not an adequate substitute. And girls need a Daddy to love and protect them and teach them what kind of a decent, loving man to find for themselves.

Thank you and God Bless You, all the good and even average Daddies who were trying their best. Find me the parent who says s/he has never fallen short – of patience, of even-handedness, of energy – and I will find you someone who is mistaken.

Happy Father’s Day: to my dear Daddy; to my dear husband, a spectacular Daddy; and to all impregnating people who grace us with their presence on Fridays.