Editor:
Yes, yes, I confess, I treated my children in a cruel and mean manner for all of their growing years. Even today, they will tell you of their cruel treatment often in a serious manner and oft times wearing a grin.
I shall tell you some of the ways in which they received ill treatment from their mother. They were not allowed candy or sweets before a meal. They had to be punctual at meal times and join in when grace was said; also, speak of their days’ events be it good or bad. Being a mean mother, I insisted on knowing where they were at all times, who their friends were and what they were doing.
As a mean mother, I often broke the child labour laws by making my children work: washing dishes, making beds and keeping their rooms tidy and clean.
I made them learn to cook and do other cruel and unpleasant household chores as members of the family.
I made their lives miserable by insisting that they told the truth at all times and take responsibility for their behaviour.
As a mean mother I watched them grow into teenagers who were wiser and more sensible. They learned to respect themselves and to respect others. They learned that their freedom ended when it encroached on others.
This mean mother often smiles with secret delight and pride when she hears her grandchildren call their parents mean and will come and say, “Grandma, were you a mean mommy?” “Yes, dear, the meanest, I’m sure!”
Frances Allen, Christina Lake