Not even in my culture – which is known for really extreme forms of enmeshment between adult children and their parents – have I heard of the following cases:
Walking into a job interview with a Canadian architectural firm, a young candidate brings something unexpected: mom.
An employee with the British Columbia company says it was the first time she had seen a parent shadow the hiring process, describing what ensued as “a bit of an awkward situation.” But she adds that there have been at least five or six recent occasions in which a mother or father sat with their grown child in the waiting room before an interview.
Dear parents, please stop and consider that if your adult child is incapable of going through a job interview without you being present, then something must have gone really wrong. Have you tried asking yourselves why crowds of young people raised by somebody other than you manage to find jobs and develop their careers without their parents’ involvement? Doesn’t your child, who can’t do the same, seem deprived of something important to you? Something like maturity, responsibility, independence?
Are you still helping the little darling use the potty? Or is it something your 25-year-old baby can handle without any help?
P.S. I linked to the article but don’t read it, it’s stupid to the point where I suspect that its author was just such a coddled over-grown baby whose parents found a job for their gray-haired baby. Its only use is to testify to the existence of a phenomenon the author’s impotent brains cannot analyze.
These parents in Quebec who are suing because they are too cheap to spend fifty bucks PER YEAR to buy their kids a dictionary and a calculator really shock me.
If you don’t have $50-150 PER YEAR to spend on dictionaries for your kid, then maybe it’s a good idea to consult the amazing birth control options available in Quebec.
Just imagine how guilty these kids feel knowing that their parents are engaged in a legal battle to avoid paying $50 PER YEAR for a calculator they need.
I don’t even want to think what kind of kids these immature parents will end up inflicting upon us.
A little girl’s father is away on a business trip. Her mother buys her a gift to cheer her up.
“I have a gift for you, my little one,” she says.
“What is it?” the three-year-old asks.
“It’s something that you like more than anything in the world,” the mother says.
The little girl’s face lights up like an opera-house chandelier.
“Daddy?” she asks breathlessly.
So, two novels. One is filled with the ideology and politics I hate. And when I say hate, I mean really, really detest.
Another is written in response to the first, addresses the same issues, denounces and corrects the tragic historic injustice perpetuated by it.
Ideologically, I applaud the second novel and hate the first to the point where I keep throwing it against the wall. Literally.
However, the first novel is so well-written and so touching that I weep every time I read it. And I’ve read it five times.
The second novel, while very professionally done and the writer is obviously talented, failed to touch me to the point that I fell asleep 4 pages before its end.