Moms, boys, and guns

By way of Sebastian, I find an interesting thread on a place called MotherTalkers about an extremely anti-gun mother being disturbed about her ex-husband offering to teach her precious little rugrat how to shoot. The 8 year old boy has been pretty effectively cowed by his mother; and staunchly refused the offer of firearms training.

I passed this thread on to Housewife, whose response can be seen here. I like her response that the mother of the child in question should probably modify her rule so that the rugrat can use guns under the supervision of the ex-husband.

I’m not going to address the flawed logic behind the “no guns” thing; despite the fact that I disagree with the mother’s position on guns, it’s her prerogative to raise her child as she pleases. I actually wanted to focus on part of this story that was sort of missed, and it’s also the part I find the most disturbing.

“NO! My mommy said that I can’t ever touch a gun and that I can’t even be around a gun!!”…My son AGAIN expressed his non-interest and inability to defy me (emphasis mine).

And that right there is the part of this that I personally find so disturbing. Admittedly, the child in the story is only 8 years old; but there’s so much here that just drops my jaw to the ground.

While that section of quotes alone is enough to write 30 posts about, I’m going to touch on one thing. How long exactly does that mother think this stage is going to last? I was an angel when I was eight; then I hit a period from the age of twelve until I was about 21 where no one would have used the word “angel” to describe me.

Based on my own subjective experience of being a boy with a mother; that poor kid is going to have one of two things happen to him. He’s either going to rebel to the point of extremes against his mother’s authority, or he’s going to grow up into a spineless “momma’s boy”. In terms of the metaphorical apron strings, they’ll either get cut with the Chainsaw of Rebellion, or they’ll be a noose around his neck.

Frankly, I’m disgusted by the whole thing. Am I making a snap judgment based off incomplete information? You bet I am. But I don’t have to stretch my imagination very far to come to the conclusion that this poor kid is going to have to choose between rebellion (go for the rebellion) or being a goddamn doormat for everyone with a spine.

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