You could have shot your eye out kid!
So many things, but one of the really dumb ones was…
sandwiches cut diagonally. I think about that every day when I make my own sandwich and feel that little “haha, I’m an adult and can do what I want” thrill as I cut it into triangles.
There are rules my parents had that I didn’t get at the time and totally get now. And there are things I didn’t get that I now sort of understand, but still don’t agree with. This one, I still do not get at all.
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll indulge and cut my sandwich into FOUR triangles.
Horseback riding lessons. I finally started at age 27, and have been a horse owner for 35 years.
In my mid-70s boyhood, those “chopper” bikes came out and I desperately wanted one, but Dad said no way - the tiny front wheel was a danger if you hit a pothole, he claimed. I’m sure it was mostly a financial decision as I had a perfectly good kids’ bike that I would soon outgrow, and that fad passed quickly, IIRC.
I was also only allowed “sugar” cereal once a year, on my birthday.
For some reason, there was an exemption for Life cereal which was usually available, and Mom had a sugar bowl on the table so I was not really deprived of sugar, even atop the Life. If you were very lucky, you got the last crumbs from the box, which was mostly sugar.
A sandwich tastes best cut into four triangles. https://twitter.com/pleasebegneiss/status/1472372026916552707?lang=en
More likely, someone else’s. My parents were right not to trust me.
I wanted to grow my hair long. So what happened? I grew it long when I was 18 and needed a job. I found out real quick these two things are not conducive.
Thankfully I grew out of the long hair phase. But had my parental units just let me grow my hair in the first place, I would have been over it by the time I was 18, and finding employment would have been much easier for me.
My mom made my father a deathbed promise that all of the kids would get a “Good Catholic Education”
Most of my elementary school friends went to public high school and I wanted to go too. I ended up at the same small Catholic high school my older sister attended
A horse or pony - I think if we lived out in the country I would have had one. Boarding was way too expensive for our family. My younger sister was horse crazy too. She eventually bought a hobby farm and had various horses over the years. When I’d hear her talk about the costs and extra work, I decided I was just fine without one. I still love horses.
I always begged to have our dog come into the house. We had a German Shepherd/Lab mix that had a straw-filled dog house and a cable run. In those days, big dogs were kept outside. Their job was to be a watchdog. Sandy was only allowed in the house on the coldest winter nights and then he had to stay in the entryway. Now my dogs sleep/lounge on the couch and beds. They have never been tied up except for leash walks. They have a fenced area in the backyard so even for pottying purposes they aren’t tied up.
My parents were pretty cool about stuff we kids asked for. I learned to be careful about what I asked for. When we moved to the country, by little brother and sister wanted horses, so my dad bought them horses. Turns out, horses are a ton of work. I was always quick to point out that they weren’t my horses (something I do to this day with my gf’s horses).
As I think back on it, there’s not much that I wanted that I didn’t get. Sugared cereals were a rare treat, and I desperately wanted a horse, but a classmate had horses they never rode that were available to me. Barbies weren’t allowed - my mother thought they were a bad influence on little girls - but I wasn’t into dolls anyway.
I didn’t feel indulged - I was a kid that read or played outdoors. I had a dog and a cat. My wants were few. I could ride my bike to the public library and check out books. The librarian tried to restrict my reading to the children’s section, but my mother told her I could read what I wanted. If my interests were different I probably would’ve felt more deprived.
StG
Guess he didn’t know that many of the European actors were played by Jews, incl. Robert Clary who actually spent time in a concentration camp, tattoo to match. The series’ writer’s bible explicitly said that the Germans could never “win” an episode.
Turns out he is still alive, age 96.
I wanted a drum kit. My mother said it would make too much noise. I improvised and made me one out of coffee cans and an old barrel. Came home from school one day and it was gone. My step father through it out, said he was tired of the noise. The only time I could play on one was in the high school band room.
We knew all that, but it didn’t sway my dad’s opinion.
A Big Wheel (remember those?), and frozen Pepperidge Farms German Chocolate Layer Cake. As an adult I ride bicycles regularly, but I don’t think I ever have bought the frozen cake, even tho I have been able to for decades.
My parents rarely bought soda. It was somewhat expensive and not too healthy, and in retrospect their reasoning was sound. It was a treat after a hockey or soccer game or in the heat of summer.
I certainly did not intend to drink as much soda as I do now. However, during undergraduate I made the switch to mostly low calorie choices, which originally I did not like, but which are essentially water. I do not think these are unhealthy if you get enough calcium.
My wants seemed to revolve around footwear when I was a kid. I have a funky left ankle and my parents insisted on sturdy saddle shoes and Keds only. I desperately wanted some white go-go boots, but nope, not gonna happen. Of course by the time I was old enough to buy myself some, they were out of fashion.
A rather more perplexing battle was galoshes vs. what we used to call ‘shoe boots.’ Galoshes fit over shoes, and ‘shoe boots’ were snow boots that didn’t - those were worn in place of shoes, and you took a pair of regular shoes with you if needed. The galoshes of the day were a pain in the ass - large, bulky, ugly things and I’d always end up pulling my shoe off with them. I remember hopping around in the coat room at school trying not to put my foot down on the wet floor in there on snowy days. I have no idea why my parents wouldn’t buy me a pair of shoe boots. I wasn’t the type of kid to forget or lose things, so taking my shoes with me to school and back wasn’t the issue. I finally got a pair in 6th grade when I had enough money of my own to buy some.
Then, as now, I really liked nicer restaurants. My parents seemed to disdain them (but I now knew it was probably due to cost), so we very seldom went to anything grander than A&W Hamburgers.
Once I started making my own money, I’d go by myself to a steak and lobster place or a good Japanese restaurant. I never minded eating by myself. My parents thought I was nuts.
Then I started learning to cook and cooked fancy stuff out of Julia Child’s cookbooks. They again looked down on this and were unhappy that I made a big mess in the kitchen. They sure chowed down on the boeuf bourgignon or potatoes au gratin in cream, though.
Somewhat similar: I desperately wanted a Christmas tree to have multicolored lights. My mother, who was Martha Stewart before there was Martha Stewart, insisted on restrained, tasteful tree decorations: a few small white lights and only a single set of identical ornaments. Suffice it to say that any ornaments I made in grade school never made it onto the tree.
As a grown-up my Christmas trees are as garish as possible, with multi-colored lights and funny little ornaments my son made as a kid.
The other thing I wanted but never got was to name a pet. We always had lots of dogs and cats while I was growing up, but I was never allowed to name them. I made a point of letting my son name all the animals we acquired during his childhood.
Wait, are you me? How did I not notice?
Another one - any convertible I wanted. 1973 Oldsmobile convertible, 1971 Porsche 914, and 1979 Fiat X1/9. They were all in my budget but all were 20+ year old rusted, clapped out pieces of shit my parents were wise to prohibit me from getting. They would have been safer than the car I eventually got (my sister’s hand-me-down Cavalier) only in the sense that their inevitable breaking down would have kept me from exposing myself to any danger behind the wheel.
Also, any red car. My mother had read they were in more accidents so she prohibited them. That kept me from getting a solid Honda Civic Del Sol Si for a really good price. That car would actually have been reasonable transportation. It also kept me from getting a 1994 Camaro V6 with high miles but also in great shape at a great price.