I'm not a fan of soap operas in ages. Generally, they end up royally annoy me. Apart from very few exceptions who manage to keep me faithful to the end of a season, they are irrelevant to me. You see, I do understand that our soap operas are a reflection of our society, but that is precisely what hit me: the values of our society saddens me and give me sometimes want to move on another planet. But, as I resolved to become an eternal optimist (with God's help, it goes without saying), rather than foolishly criticize without providing an alternative, I shall endeavor here to attempt an analysis of which I ' hope will reach an early solution path.
last Monday evening, the body and brain washed after a particularly demanding day at work, I decided to m'avachir on the sofa for an evening TV. After a few moments turbo zap, I choose to type in an episode of "Yamaska. As usual, we are treated to a litany of intrigue on couples torn apart by infidelity, above the market faced with teenagers who speak to them as we talk to sub-human, seasoned with the older girls falls in love with another woman which in turn wondered if she preferred men or women ... yes I know it's confusing you.
here I will therefore particularly frustrating to a scene of the episode. By the way, I want to say that despite all that I can criticize the values that most soap operas reflects, I do not question the quality of our authors, our directors, let alone that of our players in Quebec. The work of all these people just keeps getting better every year and it is to their credit. Bravo! You have nothing to envy the best in the world.
So this famous scene close-up mom who is woken up at 4 o'clock am by the music that seems to come from the bedroom of his teen age 15. She gets up, a leap towards its progeny room and opens the door without knocking: Surprise! Son and two of his friends are there to "chill" and smoking fags on the bottom of tehno boom-boom. Mom, rightly irritated, asks his son to whom he requested permission for the little white night session with his charming little buddies, you can imagine more ...
Obviously, for the boy-king disturbed at its meeting of deepening cultural, mom is a despot obsessed with nonsense cursed 50s. And stuff, served with a casualness and arrogance than any parent should be set illico sauce "NEVER AGAIN YOUNG MAN!" But mom, so sweet and so in control (and quite possibly terrified of injuring her baby family size, in that big enough to annoy the whole family), he kindly replied almost ten minutes to send his friends and go make a nice nap. Well, I do not know what you have done in his place, but for my part, I wonder first the fact that the 15 year old has no problem of conscience "blaster" his music at 4 in the morning while everyone is asleep. Here is my humble conclusion: before we get there, and apart from the fact that any teen can suffer from bad influences of friends more or less desirable, I suspect his parents have neglected more than once to impose limits most basic to this boy.
Believe me, I myself was a teenager that you would not have found an ideal companion for your little ones. But despite all my deviations premature and my entourage of bullies, the house of my parents has never been a place where you could afford to hold anything without their consent, and it was perfect as well. There were impassable limits, my brother and myself were very aware, and it was perfect as well.
I must sincerely thank my parents taught me to respect and sense of hierarchy. Today (yes, I'm really trying to speak to Gen Y), more and more young people believe in the same level as their parents as soon as their brain is developed enough to make an attempt at argument, made me laugh! Dear parents, your children will not suffer emotional trauma if you teach them that NO ... it's NOT! Closing the door on these gurus of progressive education that teaches us that today, everything is negotiable. I do not encourage you to bully your little ones to make you comply, I simply urge you to reject any compromise with this fundamental right is yours, the one directing traffic under your own roof.
My personal definition of "home": physical location where you either pay rent or own the mortgage and all bills that vlimeuses s relating thereto.
Titus question: in your humble abode, "YOU", you share accounts payable with children and teens?
Yeah ...
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