So, last night at a friend’s house, I watched her son opened an awesome Nerf bazooka gun that shoots like 600 bullets at the same time. He was having a tough day, he was exhausted and then the gun had the nerve to break.
“Why me! Why me! I knew this bazooka wouldn’t work, I just knew it! Why do horrible things like this always happen to me? My friends’ Nerf guns work.”
He had a classic case… oh, I’ve seen it before, it’s pretty ugly. The question is, how does one catch this horrible illness and can we cure or prevent it?
Here’s my take: As we — many of us helicopter/ over-protective / over-compensating / over-complimenting parents raise this next generation, we’re teaching them that they are truly the center of the universe. I am not judging, I am one of those parents – many of us are (to varying degrees). Many of us, myself included, have an internal struggle where we pit our need to ensure our children’s happiness against the knowledge that attempting to provide these things for them 24/7 will probably inhibit their ability to do anything for themselves… EVER!
OK, I’m not a therapist, but I see one regularly, which means I’m totally qualified to say these things. Wait, it doesn’t? So, I should stop calling my friend who once played a Doctor in a Prilosec commercial for advice on my IBS? Whatever…