Now listen to the children while they play…
It’s really not very funny what the children say.
–Henson Cargill 
How to make fantastic pancakes. I can remember standing beside on a stool aged about 10 as he showed me how to look for the bubbles that let you know that its time to flip it.
He’s gone now but I remember him each time I make pancakes for my two year old daughter as she stands on a step stool beside me.
I had been real stubborn about it–flipping the pancakes too early. They would be almost black on the outside and still liquid inside.
My aunt–my Mom’s sister–pointed out what I was doing wrong. I corrected my technique–I wasn’t proud. 
Well, I don’t communicate with my folks much these days but I remember that right before I left for boot camp (navy) my dad told me: 1) Don’t get any tattoos, 2) Don’t marry the first girl you #$%@, and I think there was a 3rd thing but I now don’t remember what it was (or even that there was a third thing, for sure). Well, I don’t talk to my folks much these days as I mentioned earlier but I can say this: I followed my dad’s advice on both those counts and I’m glad that I did!
Oddly enough, this is the same advice the Tourism Authority of Thailand hands out to visitors.
Interesting. I swear I read once that card players often keep sunglasses ON while playing so that other players can’t see the dilation of their pupils (a response one cannot control) upon seeing cards (s)he likes.
Years ago I was watching my stepfather fix a broken chair.
On the bottom of the seat, I noticed that he had written the following:
“won’t follow orders, 10 lashes”.
“can’t follow orders, 5 lashes”.
As a 12 year old, I pointed out the absurdity of his second quote.
He simply dead panned to me, “Last Glacial Maximum, life’s FULL of absurdities”…
Boy was he correct !
.
Keep an eye on the worst case scenario. Sometimes “failure” is still a win and you just have to show up.
Well, my pupils aren’t that easy to see–I have brown eyes.
So am I! Hi CB!
When you are out at first on your own and get off the airplane or Amtrak in a strange city, the guy you meet who asks you if you have a place to stay and if you need a job is NOT a friendly altruist. Run, don’t walk.
(Actually I may have learned this from a newspaper article. My parents were more along the lines of “Don’t accept rides with strangers unless you’re caught in a blizzard and developing hypothermia, in which case it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other.”)
My mom had two older brothers and when she was growing up ( late 1930’s ) girls were expected to all of the household tasks. Her brothers had very few responsibilities other than what dad had them do. Mom indicated that this was just the way it was then.
Flash forward to when mom married and started a family that produced three boys and no girls. Mom was “damn sure that things are going to be different” and made it quite clear my brothers and I were going to learn and to contribute to the household duties. Towards that end, she showed us how to cook meals, do laundry, and clean all rooms in the house. I learned to sew and my younger brother has knitted a sweater. She was adamant that the when we left the nest we were capable of fending for ourselves and in the event we started a family of our own, we would be able to contribute.
So I can and do help around the house - cook, clean, renovations - albeit with some restrictions with certain laundry items, the result of a pricey cashmere that I washed in a less than delicate setting. :smack:
The other special thing my parent taught was to be frugal with my finances. I had a bank account when I was 7 and put any cash gifts in it and very seldom took money out. When I went off to university, I took this money and a significant graduation gift from my parents and grandparents and opened an investment account and began to invest. This has done quite well (eg. bought Apple in 1987 
) and it is just another piece of our retirement.
When I was little, the oldest of three sons, my Mom was a housewife. My father died when I was 9, at which point she had to go to work.
She told me and my brothers, “You’re all tall enough to reach the knobs on the washing machine. You’re doing your own laundry from now on.” And we did.
A few years alter, when my Mom remarried and had my youngest brother, we were his primary caregivers. We all changed diapers, gave baby baths, nursed him through illnesses, whatever.
Not to brag, but we’re all pretty good fathers today, and that early training helped!