Give our children a break

IF you’re all sitting comfortably, I’ll begin. Today we are going to talk about the children. The little kiddiewinks. The only species that can drive you from aggravation, to adoration and back in the blink of an eye! Some weeks ago I wrote that giving the vote to 16-year-olds was ridiculous.

The backlash I received for that statement was, somewhat predictably, hysterical to say the least. ‘How can you say that?’ a number of readers ranted. ‘Don’t you realise how informed the young people of today actually are? And so on. Well actually loves, as a father of six, I know exactly how informed they are.

Despite the whole issue being raised again this week. (I don’t need to say by whom, but he has trouble with bacon sandwiches!) I can quite categorically say the ratio of the ‘informed,’ ‘uninformed’ and ‘don’t give a monkeys,’ teenagers is probably around 500 to one. By this reckoning, the outcome of this experiment would mean that for every ‘informed’ teen voting responsibly for a political party, 499 would vote for Harry Styles. For heaven’s sake give the kids a break. Most of their lives will be spent as adults – with the worry and responsibility that comes with it. Let ‘em just be. Let them revel in their new discoveries; excitement of first kisses and dates.

Let ‘em enjoy their music, young energy and gift of life. To me, endeavouring to heap adult responsi-bilities on our youngsters is akin to child abuse. I can actually remember being young. Despite the fact that, in the aftermath of WWII we were somewhat deprived, it was a magical, innocent and wonderful experience. Robbing the children of their childhood is unforgivable.

Also, while I’m about it, I think all these ‘Tiny Tot’ beauty pageants should also be banned and indeed some of the mothers actually committed. The agony heaped on most of these tiny participants is a pure parental disgrace.

Now we come to another pair of ‘saucepans’ in the news this week. The two young tykes who attempted to rob the bank. All dolled up in crash helmets, with a cleverly faked gun, they strolled into the bank like a couple of John Derringers.

Apparently after their capture they were locked in a cell for the night. Quite right. Give them a taste of what to expect if they embark on this type of career. ‘Oh no,’ scream the predictable, completely misled do-good brigade. ‘They should have been treated much differently than that’. Like what I ask? Taken out for a McDonald’s? Given a trip to Disneyland?

Of course they needed a sharp, short lesson. After a night on bread and water, they should have been given a guided tour of the grimmest prison around. I dunno, sometimes I do despair of it all.

Keep the faith. Love Leapy

leapylee2002@gmail.com