Spoiled Teenager Dreads A One Mile Walk

I sent Punkin to the store this morning to pick up some laundry detergent and kitty litter.  It was a necessity, as today is Monday, and Mondays have always (since I was a kid), been the laundry and housecleaning day.  Hubsy and I were just at the store yesterday, picking up fare for family meals, and a few other staples, but I didn't realize how low we were on these items. 

I made sure to send her first thing in the morning, before the heat index had a chance to climb to a dangerous level.  This particular grocery store is one mile, at the most, away from our home.  She certainly doesn't mind walking that far with a group of friends, or to meet up with a group of friends... to get a soda, or some makeup... or just to get away from home for a while.  Although, when she has to go at my request, for household items... OMG, you would think I just cuffed her to a chain gang.  Her "terrible ordeal" has just been posted to Facebook, and so I have chosen Blogger, as my forum of choice, to respond.

Laura Ingalls walked at least three miles to and from school every day... come rain, snow, or sweltering heat... with wild boars, bears, wolves, snakes, and bobcats.  There are children in Africa who would walk three times that distance for the opportunity to learn reading, writing, and math.  They hold out the hope that, if they survived the lions, crocs, or being abducted or raped and mutilated by guerrilla fighters, they might someday be able to move their families out of poverty.  It's the same story in some far eastern countries.  They also walk miles away from home to sell farmed goods at a street market.  Then, they'll walk miles again to find work in a factory that pays less than one would make in America simply by selling a pint of blood.

It's not as if I asked her to walk to the polluted, crocodile infested river, to beat our laundry against a rock.  All I needed was a pre-made, plastic packaged stainfighting detergent, so that I could have a machine do all the work.  It's not as if I asked her to hunt me down some small mammal that we might skin and stew up for some much needed calories.  All I needed was a box of absorbent and pretty scented sand, so that our pampered pet can do her business (indoors!), and not have to worry about a predator hunting her down.

Hmmm, I was writing this to make a point about how spoiled American teenagers are... but now... Man, even I feel so spoiled.


  1. Oh mom, you COULD'VE just replyed to my post thru facebook and not blogging about my misfortune. By the way, im not doing you evil bidding of walking FOUR miles anymore...love you! <3

  2. LOL Blogger is the best choice of response, because it's so much more open than facebook, strangers can read it and feel right there along with you. I know how it is though, I have to walk 1/4 mile just to check the mail, lol. I also know what it's like from the kid point of view, because I remember when dad would make me mow the front lawn (as small as it was) I kicked and fought my way through it, stomping with every step, fighting against this chore that I hated... but if I would have just accepted that it needed to be done, and worked WITH the lawnmower rather than against it, I would have been done twice as fast. Kids never think about that sort of thing. =P


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