DD14, in a moment of teenaged angst over our emphatic limitations on her on-line time in favor of learning to do NON-virtual things for a change, complained bitterly to me yesterday that she-- and I'm quoting here, because I am still laughing at the sheer chutzpah;

"shouldn't have to take on age-inappropriate responsibilities because of [our] poor parenting choices,"

and that if she were just going into high school next year (as opposed to getting ready to graduate), she wouldn't have to be concerned about picking a college or working hard to earn scholarships with her free time. This snit because I wasn't going to let her spend the entire evening on Skype, but wanted her to complete chores and an hour of obligations in preparation for a major competitive event later this summer...

Because, sure... in typical teenaged-thinking, the alternative associated with being 14 and a rising high school freshman is almost certainly that we'd allow her to do whatever she pleased and grant her every whim at the same time.... Suuuuuuure we would. wink


There was a moment of clarification-seeking before I tackled this particular notion. Gave her a chance to use the escape hatch, but she opted out, basically.

Me:

So you're saying that radical acceleration ruined your life?

That we SHOULDN'T HAVE done that?


That your life would be so much BETTER if you were just finishing up 8th grade this past year... in a regular bricks-and-mortar classroom... just one of the regular kids at the middle school, eh?

No summer internship, just 'being a kid' and all that, right?

Hmmm??





I'd like to think that most 14yo's wouldn't trot out "you're not treating me in a developmentally-appropriate manner, here" as a reason why they shouldn't have to do as they're being asked.

MAN, can this kid argue, though.

(Oh-- because of the nasty attitude and shirking her responsibilities, her ultimate reward was not getting ANY computer time for the evening. :sigh: She was REALLY mad at me when I took her mobile device and locked her out of her dad's laptop, too, I must say.)











Schrödinger's cat walks into a bar. And doesn't.