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Home Improvement


Home Improvement comic
[[Blue Print of tree house. Floor 3 of 3. Green house. Sauna. Elevator. Trash shoot. Board room with snack table. Lots of amenities.]] [[THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!]] [[Dad hammering on the roof. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!]] [[ Kid yelling out window up at Dad.]] Kid: Daaaaaaddd! Kid: We're trying to have a meeting here! Dad: Sorry, kiddo. [[Dad walking back into his dilapidated house.]] Angry wife: I've been telling you for weeks. You need to fix the hot water heater. Angry wife: Now. [[Dad looking out onto yard with treehouse, garbage coming out the shoot.]] Dad: You know I don't have the time or energy for that.
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3/20/13 4:25PM

That, Nubbineers, is how you anger parents with a technique called hyperbole. I’m not done yet. As few as a hundred years ago, children were little more than temporary indentured servants with an especially long training phase. Born and bred to be extra hands tending the farm or plying their father’s trade. Or to die of some disease.

Now, each child is royalty in his home. Prince of pooping. Doted on and obsessed over, often at the expense of the parent’s happiness and sanity. And for what? Questionable benefits not backed by statistics. Enough so that pretty smart people are hinting selfish/lazy parenting might be best.

Let’s not get carried away and assume this all means I don’t like treehouses. Quite the contrary. In fact, I like them so much that I think us adults should keep them for ourselves.

Nipples Out,
Jesse