I wass a war baby, growing up in the East End of London and every adult then was an authority figure, so if we kids got up to any mischief (and we did!), we stopped and ran at the very approach of an adult, let alone a copper. If caught, we got a clip around the ear or somesuch; if we told dad, we would get another one because we deserved it - no thought of claiming legal retribution.
Ron.
Two peas in a pod, you and me Ron. Your statement is spot on. Your parents expected you to be chastised by other adults if you were doing wrong. We never answered back (at least not in earshot) and, as you say, in trouble with the local bobby brought you twice the grief !!!!!! 
So basically what you're both admitting is that it's your generation of parents that haven't learnt how to raise children properly *lights the blue touch paper and runs* 
Not quite, it's the generation just after... those born to war children who had been raised with nothing and were then able to begin to provide for their children in ways that their parents would never imagine (or consider necessary...) toys and treats rather than company, guidance and discipline. Two generations and one child act later and the little shits that weren't allowed to be slapped into line as I was leaving school are now breeding to excess and couldn't give a flying monkey shit about anyone or thing but themselves and their sodding rights.
If I had had the presence of mind to castrate some of the shits that followed behind us at school, I would have. Trashing their dormitories at 2 am, followed by setting off the fire alarm at 4 am was far more fun...
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Topic: Feral kids (Read 3747 times)