ShareThisI demand my children tell me how much they appreciate me and all I do for them. Constantly.
I demand that my children learn to put things back once they use them. Always.
I demand to look 34 again.
Then I demand to be hired for the news anchor job I didn't pursue the first time around, because I was too busy taking care of children to go after such a thing. Obviously, I would have gotten such a job otherwise.
What I have to contend with is all so unfair.
I demand someone give me a million dollars.
I demand that my mortgage go away.
I demand to be remarried. Now.
What I have to contend with is all so unfair.
I demand that the loads of laundry in my house always get done by someone else.
I demand that the crow's feet around my eyes disappear.
I demand that certain family members stop annoying me.
I demand my next book be a New York Times bestseller.
I demand more time with my friends.
What I have to contend with is all so unfair.
I demand my children stop arguing with me and each other.
I demand they answer, "I will, Mom," when I ask them to do something -- and then do it right away. Every time.
I demand my closets get cleaned out without me having to make any tough decisions about what stays and what goes.
I demand a new car that doesn't let water in some mysterious opening when it rains so that I can hear it sloshing back and forth somewhere in the chassis underneath.
I demand someone clean my garage so that I can fit my car into it when it rains.
I demand my dog stay off of the most expensive furniture in the house, and instead destroy the inexpensive stuff he doesn't currently seem to care about.
What I have to contend with is all so unfair.
I demand someone rake the leaves in the yard into perfect piles without me having to ask for it to be done.
I demand a new iPhone.
I demand another million dollars. Make it $3 million all together.
I demand more hours in the day.
I demand to be happy and fulfilled, ALL the time.
What I have to contend with is all so unfair.
Yep, these are the things that I demand. I can probably find a lot of my friends who will demand many of these same things, and they could add more to customize their lists. Should we form a group and march for these demands? Make some signs? We can get angry that we don't have just what we want -- RIGHT NOW -- and decide that it's someone else's fault, and they had better give us what we want. RIGHT NOW. Or else.
I don't see why not. Apparently, we'd get lots of sympathetic respect from the news media and politicians for our "understandable angst." I have angst. And I'd be glad to have it fully understood. I'd be really glad to make it all someone else's problem and have all my demands, and my desires -- reasonable and otherwise -- met. This instant.
And I don't care what it costs some mysterious, unnamed "them," or how unfair it is to this "them" to make it all happen.
Oh, wait, this approach is not going to work. It shouldn't work. Shoot, I completely forgot. I'm a grown-up. I even kind of like being a grown-up.
I guess it's back to the real world for me, then. And all I can say is: Phew.
(Betsy Hart is the author of "It Takes a Parent: How the Culture of Pushover Parenting Is Hurting Our Kids -- And What to Do About It" (Putnam Books). Reach her through hartmailbox-mycolumn(at)yahoo.com.)
FROM THE HART
