Idle threats

by premierbakedbeanbrand

What exactly is achieved by parents idle threats? Has any one issuing these threats ever actually thought about what they’re saying and what they’re going to do if the child being threatened calls them on it?
Christmas, in the build up to a single calender day, delivers more stress than the Royal Mail can in packages in the preceding 364, and as part of that comes the blackmail… You get to see it when you get older… I was being good why? So that Father Christmas would come and leave me all I want?
Why aren’t the parents bringing out the threats of Father Christmas in July? Come the beginning of the six weeks of Summer Holidays why not lay it on the line; Father Christmas is watching you little rat bastard, so, behave or you’ll be disappointed come December . That makes a little more sense. A little more sense than “If you don’t start behaving I’m going to turn this train round and we’re going home”. How did she think she was going to do that? Southern have enough trouble putting a service that runs and the last thing they need is stressed mothers turning their trains around and I have to say I wouldn’t of been that impressed either seeing as it was my outbound journey, she probably didn’t even think of the ticketing implications, what would it of done to my return? Would the conductor of had to clip it seeing as I was heading back to where I came from? Could I claim a refund seeing as I hadn’t been able to make my destination? And how about the kid? Wide-eyed in fear he sat back and said no more; I can’t say I wasn’t happy about it, had it of been me I’d of straight up gagged him, but a part of me was after hearing three words… ‘Go on then’… He clearly had it in him, he hadn’t paused for breath in twenty minutes, but unfortunately he fell for it. Said nothing. Shit one.
That was just the most extreme threat, a variation on the idea of ‘shut up or we’re going home’ that you can hear as you wander through the pedestrianised shopping areas where you can see in the eyes of the mothers the combination of fear of being beaten to what’s left on the shelves mixes with the fear of what’s to be done, I’ve heard recently, and it does make you wonder why Christmas doesn’t get left to the men… Think of the genius of Christmas dinner. No more school playground conversations of “What did you have for dinner? Turkey? Yeah… us to….” You’d instead have more excitably swapped conversations of pizzas topped with Cranberrys, to ‘keep it festive’, Duck inside a Goose inside the Dog, ‘Jamie said in his advert it was easy, and the kids ate their veg, how often do you hear that?‘ all manner of excitement. No eating huge feasts in the middle of the day, you’d get what you got when you got it. Without the stress. Then you’ve got the Russian roulette of the opening of presents; gone would be “The List” and the idea that you’d be getting a selection, if not all, of what’s on it and it would be replaced by the excitement that comes with getting something that you may of actually been after… imagine being able to say to your mates that while they were left with presents they weren’t old enough to legally be in possession of, that they hadn’t even realised existed let alone asked for, that you got something you were after, not a little unlike the kid that was desperate for his Red Ryder bb gun who had to suffer through a Christmas Day that was destined for disappointment until his Dad stepped in… Christmases like that would become the thing of legend; passed down from one generation to the next. Stories of pocket knives disguised as books, whiskey bottles disguised as bikes, the wrapping would become a part of Christmas like never before… Bikes in boxes? Pah.. how about boxes of Lego made to look like a rocking horse…

And gone would be the idle threats. No more kids being threatened as they’re dragged kicking and screaming into an experience they’d rather not be apart of. You’d have deserted streets, shopping centres would barely notice the difference in trading until the 23 December as the kids are told ‘It’s going to be busy in town, why don’t we go to the beach and toss pebbles… the park and kick a ball around… the woods for a walk and see if we can’t hunt out some bears…’
And how does they link to Beans? Well they were the only thing in the house that weren’t labeled Christmas…