The scene. R and J on a Saturday afternoon in the Byrnes kitchen a few weeks ago.

Me: Where’s M been the last few weekends?

J: She got grounded.

Me: What?! You’re kidding me!

J: No, fell behind in school.

Me: That’s amazing.

The mind whirls. I didn’t know any of my upper middle class liberal acquaintances had it in them. I keep repeating it to myself, “She got grounded, she got grounded, she got grounded,” to assure myself I heard correctly.

Old-school-discipline. Wonder if they consulted with any lawyers or therapists first? They don’t know it, but M’s mother and father are my new heroes. They’ve restored my faith that at least in some homes there’s still a meaningful demarcation between adult and child. 

I believe most of my liberal acquaintances coddle their kids way too much, but as per American tradition, I can’t say that. And since I can’t say it, I shouldn’t write it. Too late I guess. 

Interestingly though, they seem to be getting away with what in my view is far too little discipline. Why? Because they’ve invested the time and have decent enough relationships that their kids have steered clear of the most serious pitfalls. If asked about their parents’ parenting, the kids would probably say, “Yeah, they are invertebrates, but I know they care about me and because of that I’m not going to do drugs, give up in school, or drink myself silly.” 

My dad’s parenting and management philosophies began with instilling fear in children and employees. Fear would evolve into respect, and fortunately for him, it worked. I’ve taken a different approach with my own kids, but I think there’s a huge middle ground. If California is coddling and Vermont is fear, I’m Kansas. 

Fast forward to last week when L told me she was beyond frustrated with one of our daughters who was blowing off her daily chores.

Me: Ground her posterior (I used a shorter term, but don’t want to offend).

L: What?!

Me: Ground her gludius maximus. Withholding allowance has no effect. Friends are the only thing that motivates her. Ground her.

L (through devious smile): That’s not a bad idea.

The fire spreads.