No more Mr Nice Guy
I'VE just watched a fascinating programme entitled The World's Strictest Parents that should be compulsory viewing for all mums, dads...and children.
Take two stroppy teenagers, throw in a couple of all American boys who never done no bad and then add their amazing parents into the cocktail and you've got the recipe for gripping TV.
Dad is a good cop, bad cop combination of an SS officer and Ned Flanders from the Simpsons.
And here's the rub. His approach seems to work.
The two Brit brats sent to his house in Alabama for a week ended up loving his strict regime as their self esteem soared and their confidence grew in line with the tighter boundaries.
And that's where, in real life, I fall down so often.
My boundaries are wavering, fuzzy and sometimes never adhered to - I don't lay the law down in case I upset my children or the confrontation turns into a full blown head to head row .
But not any more...this programme has reinforced my belief that children - even my argumentative, rude and often uncooperative two lads - actually want strict, known boundaries.
And that's exactly what they're going to get from now on. Or at least while I remember.
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