Morpheus has this idea of tough love when it comes to raising his son (he treats his daughters differently). He told me last time we saw each other that he wished he had a little league coach who woke up with him in the morning, and rallied him throughout the day. He also said that he wished someone would have told him when he was young that he was a "dumbass"; he stated that there's nothing wrong with telling your son he's a dumbass.
Of course, all of my psychology education has told me that it's wrong to call your child "stupid" or "inept" or some other version of that because then the child internalizes the message, and it's very difficult to rid oneself of the negativity once it's sprouted. No matter how smart one ends up.
The English instructor and I were talking about how a student in chemistry class brought her child into the room, and said that she couldn't attend lab and lecture because she didn't have a babysitter. The chemistry professor made a phone call, and found her one.
"How old was the child?" The English instructor said.
"I don't know," I replied. "I don't know anything about children. He was about yay-high." I hold my hand up to about table height.
The English instructor finds this to be amusing.
"Yeah, I had bad experiences with strange babysitters," I continued.
"It's child neglect," the English instructor said strongly.
"You want to tell my mother that?"
"Well, if you've told her then it's not going to do any good for me to tell her."
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