One of the problems with being born on the cusp of anything is not quite fitting in to either group completely. While I’m definitely a Leo, I’m sort of Gen X. Technically speaking, I was born within the year span for Generation X. But my upbringing was done by the Greatest Generation parents and an older Baby Boomer sister.
My husband is a Baby Boomer. Since I had my children while I was relatively young (by today’s standards), most of my close friends are Boomers as well. I fit in very well with them in certain aspects, even though I still love me some Police, Prince, and Michael Jackson (rest in peace).
One thing where I fit in better with my parents’ generation is my child-rearing philosophy. The problem began with the Boomer generation who decided to allow their children to call adults by their first names. They dropped all honorifics, including Aunt and Uncle so that Uncle John became just John. Amongst my set of friends, we have a rule that we all instituted without confirming with each other first – children address all adults as Mr. or Mrs. So-and-So. Does the fact that my close friends are all friends from my parish have anything to do with it?
One of my biggest pet peeves is placing children on par with adults, such as inviting children to adult parties and adults to children parties. I may be friendly to children but I’m not friends with them. They should have their own friends just as I have mine. When we were invited to a neighbor’s birthday party, I knew that the momentous occasion would include children. Looking at the invitation alone was enough to make the hives welt up on my neck.
At the party, I watched in both amusement and horror as a mother explained to her preschooler that the two drinks in the pretty dispensers were alcoholic – one with gin, the other with rum – and that the child didn’t like either of those, “remember?” To the side was a pitcher of a red colored drink for the kids. Why should a child serving him or herself settle for red if he or she likes green or blue better? Thankfully, only one child tried to help himself to the blue adult drink (at least that I saw).
The last 50th birthday party that I attended was an adult-only affair. The adults could be adults and mingle with other adults without having to worry about whether their children were heading off into the street or helping themselves to the blue rum-based drink. Call me old-fashioned, but if you’re going to invite the whole family, save the hard liquor for after all the kiddies have gone home. At which time I’ll have my Old Fashioned made with bourbon and on the rocks.
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