When you were a kid, what did you want but your parents wouldn't allow?

When you were a kid, there had to be something you wanted, your parents wouldn’t allow, and that you vowed you would partake of in excess when you grew up. Maybe a food, an activity, going somewhere…

For me it was watching “Married With Children.” Mom refused to let me watch it, and I remember telling her that i was going to record every episode (on the vcr, of course) when i grew up and have it on at my house 24/7.

Beatles haircut - our regular barber even had a sign advertising it

A snake. Made up for it later by getting one for my son.

Double pierced ears. By the time I was old enough to have it done without permission, I didn’t want a double piercing anymore.

Those large, glass Christmas decoration bulbs. Every year it was, “we’ll get some next year.” It never happened.

Guess what’s hanging from my gutters every Christmas?


A dog! I begged and pleaded, but nope. My dad would have, but my mom said no way. We did have a few cats along the way and some guinea pigs, but no dog ever.
Within a few months of buying my own house, I had a dog and have had at least one ever since (30+ years). I have also had, at various times, cats, goats, ducks, rabbits, ferrets, hamsters, guinea pigs, gerbils, birds, fish, frogs and salamanders.
I’m still waiting for a pony.

To stay up as late as I wanted. Ironically, now that I can go to bed any time I like, I frequently go to bed the very same time as when I was kvetching about it.

To my WW2 veteran dad, a really short military cut is what Real Americans wore. If you wanted longer hair, you were a hippie who was trying to tear down Christian Values and everything he’d fought for in “The War”.

Of course, in the late 60s, all my friends had Beatles hair, so I grew up as an uber-dork.

I think every other boy having long hair got to Dad, and he finally had had enough (or snapped, your choice). One of my McCartney-lookalike friends was over at the house, and my dad called up his father, and asked if he could “give the kid a good Army haircut”.

Yep, it happened. With the dog clippers, in the backyard, as other friends looked out the kitchen windows and made faces.

A motorcycle. By the time I was able to buy one myself, I was working EMS driving an ambulance. Cured my desire for it – permanently.

I wasn’t allowed to see Batman comics or Ninja Turtles. By the time I did get my own access to Internet (being an adult, having left home,) it was too silly and inane for me to feel good about watching - I was too old for it.

I pretty much didn’t get anything that I wanted.

No pets. “Too much trouble” – that was my mother’s theme song.

No piano. I desperately wanted piano lessons. “Too expensive.” My mother finally bought me a $125 piano when I was a senior in high school. I taught myself to play.

No bicycle. “Too dangerous.” I bought my first bicycle for myself when I was a senior in college.

I was an only child but not indulged in any way – mostly kind of ignored. Excellent student, never in trouble, straight As, National Merit Finalist, full ride to college – I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. Still don’t know.

No sugary breakfast cereal; nothing that explodes, including on the 4th; no Dukes Of Hazzard, I guess Dad and Daisy Duke had something to work out.
(Wonder Woman was allowed, so sorry Daisy Duke, I guess I’ll manage.)

Ice cream from a truck. My Ps said it was too expensive. When I had my own money, I realized they were right! :wink:

I was never allowed to spend the night at a friend’s house. My mom had a horror story of spending the night at a friend’s house when she was young, and her friend’s father came home drunk, beat up the friend’s mother, and broke the little sister’s finger.
I did get to go to a slumber party once when I was in sixth grade and the whole class was invited. I guess Mom figured we had the drunken parents outnumbered.

A Nintendo (the original NES). “Everyone” had one, or so it seemed to my elementary school aged self, so I felt like I was being seriously deprived by the fact that we didn’t have one. My parents always said we already had a computer that I could play games on (something that wasn’t that common in the 1980s), so I didn’t need a Nintendo as well. They didn’t seem to care that you couldn’t play Super Mario Brothers and the other Nintendo titles on our computer; the games we had were like knockoffs of Centipede and Frogger, and educational stuff like the Carmen Sandiego games.

Also a fireplace, something our house didn’t have. Sure adding a fireplace to an existing house is probably a lot of trouble, but they could have included one when they built the addition. Ironically now I own a house with a wood stove, and I never use it.

Oh, and a swimming pool. Supposedly something about the location of the septic tank and drain field made it impossible to put a swimming pool in our backyard, but I’m sure that was just an excuse.

Play-Doh. My dad refused to allow it in the household, arguing that I would mush it into the carpet. I have no memory of doing this but maybe it’s something that happened before I could form memories.

Once I got a set from an aunt for my birthday and when I opened the present he immediately took it out of my hands and threw it in the trash. Fun times.

He seemingly had no problem with LEGO blocks, no matter how many times he stepped on them barefooted.

But like, what about Jesus, man?

I wanted ballet lessons! I used to get books from the library that showed the arm and feet positions and how certain steps were executed. I would “borrow” my mom’s classical albums and play them on my crappy record player in the basement and “do ballet.” I even had the glittery costumes that were passed to us from neighbor girls who took ballet (lucky ducks!!) But with 4 kids and one income, there was no spare change for lessons or costumes.

When I got to college, they offered ballet at a PE credit, so I signed up. Alas, the things that were so easy when I was 6 were close to impossible at 18. There will always be a frustrated ballerina deep within my being…

Watching Hogan’s Heroes. As a Jewish family that lost relatives in Europe my dad, who served in the war, didn’t think that was an appropriate subject for humor.

I wanted an airgun. A lot of my school friends had one and I wanted to shoot stuff too. Hard no from the parents.
In retrospect, I am glad.