Commentary On The Free Speech Of Children

“Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?”
“Nothing, precious,” she said; “they are the eyes a mother leaves behind her to guard her children.”
J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan: A Classic Illustrated Edition

I put salt, sugar and mashed potatoes in the cream container when no one was looking, then waited silently to see who would get their just surprise. ~ Really I did do this.

I ran after my parent’s car. Wet and salty teats in my mouth.  My sister turned 16 and they were taking her out to a birthday dinner without my brother and me.  I ripped my favorite pink square polka-dot dress. I screamed.  They drove away. They took her to Kwan’s restaurant, a Chinese restaurant where my family went often. My dad was close friends with the owner.  Tonight I was not included in my sister’s birthday celebration and I felt awful. My sister did not want the kids around.

Nights without our parents could be fun. My older brother would turn off the sound to his awful baseball or football games. We listened to classical music while watching sports. He got to watch his sports and we got to laugh. I learned that staying at home is better than going out with my parents, sometimes. This included TV dinners. Mom only brought those out when she went out. To this day I love TV dinners.

I have a niece and nephew on my husband’s side of the family that are the worst of the worst, they are down and out rotten tomatoes. Even my high and mighty mother-in –law ignores them. I avoid them at all costs. Our great-grandmother said,

“Jim and Jane are so spoiled. They are embarrassing to be with!”

My kids are good kids to be around with adults. They are shy and introverted.  They don’t even mind siting at the little kid’s table during Thanksgiving dinner, but then again neither do I. Adults can get pretty full of themselves.

In conclusion I would like to repeat something a nice church elder told me,

“It just isn’t Sunday morning at church, if there aren’t some kids crying on the pews!”

The motto of this little commentary is,

“ Don’t be afraid to use the word “no” when it comes to bad kids or bad parents, while remembering to give a special treat to those human beings that behave themselves.”

The Singing Saints….

Chris Bailey is the co-founder and singer of rock band The Saints. He was born in Nanyuki, Kenya in 1959 to Irish parents. Bailey grew up in Belfast, Northern Ireland until the age of seven, when his family immigrated to Australia.

The is just a little tidbit about my all time favorite punk singer. He has a nasal, deep, crackly voice. His deep Irish voice comes warmly through with his unique singing. A brilliance from my generation that lives today.  I don’t believe in heroes but I can say that this man has inspired me to do things I might not have done.  If I could go back in time, I would arrive around the time this underground band The Saints were forming. Australia I would be there! I would try to hang our with them and be a friend.  Yet, this is just me dreaming.

I love their music and anyone that knows me knows this and I am sure gets sick of me saying it.  I found out today that one can continue to say things that they like. I can and I will!! I have been guilty of complaining a lot lately. I have been hurt and betrayed in my life, but The Saints have a song for every feeling I have. I can listen to their music and there is Chris Bailey comforting me, enraging me and inspiring me. I would like to image loving me too. He will always be a part of my life. I love him… it is na Irish thing….and an Aussie thing too!