Just watched an ABC World News report about a woman who runs classes to teach children table manners. Presumably parents are outsourcing this former duty to an expert who charges $50 a lesson.
At the risk of stirring another debate on a non-newspaper topic, I deplore this trend of parents turning over basic household training to strangers.
Teaching table manners was a nightly event at our house. Today, there are apparently so few family dining opportunities that now some parents are seeking outside help.
It didn't take many nights for my mother and her vise like grip to teach me and my brother, Mike, the basics of holding a fork, wielding a knife and scooping up peas with a spoon.
My mother also taught my brother and I the correct way to set a table (fork on the left, knife and spoon on the right, etc.).
We had real family dinners, complete with conversation and, gasp, no television while we were eating. Can you imagine?
But, on the other hand, with the export of so many high paying jobs, maybe the Miss Manners service training will offer great opportunities to the legions of newspaper people currently looking for work.
Many of the fine journalists I know could teach your children the best way to pour a beer without overflowing the foam and the proper way to unwrap, hold and eat a hamburger at your desk. Give them a try, many could use the $50.
2 comments:
I'm not surprised people are making money to perform basic parenting skills. When's the last time you went to a restaurant and sat next to a family with kids? With rare exception, it's like watching a pack of wild dogs eat ... but the dogs are more polite. Then, to make the experience even richer, they get up and run around the restaurant while the parents do nothing.
For years I watched waitstaff cringe when I brought my kids to a restaurant. I lost count of the times they remarked at how "lucky" I was to have such well-behaved kids. I told them luck had nothing to do with it -- it's difficult, thankless work but somebody has to do it.
Jim failed to mention what would happen if we happened to used the wrong fork or some equal disaster that might cause our mother some form of social outcast from her friends. The incentive to do the right thing was quick and sure and for me quite rememberable.
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