MY OLDEST son is nearing his teenage years. In truth, he’s been a teenager since he was about seven, but the real teenage power and attitude has most certainly intensified these past few months.
The boy is growing his hair long. I suppose technically it could be more defined as growing more up and out than long. The child inherited his father’s straw-like hair that defies the laws of gravity and reaches for the stars in every direction possible.
But he point blank refuses to get it cut.
The sight of that boy in the morning, emerging bleary eyed from his bedroom, his hair standing on his head like a Northern Ireland Sideshow Bob just turns me into my mother and I can’t fight the urge to complain, threaten to cut it all off as he sleeps or contact the barber to stage a surprise intervention.
I always prided myself on allowing my kids the freedom to be themselves, but this hair situation has made me look at my parenting style of late. I’m afraid, terrifyingly, I’ve found myself acting more like North Korea’s Kim Jong-un than Mary Poppins. Here is the evidence.
Get that hair cut!
See above. I am constantly ordered the boy to get his hair cut so that he appears reasonably groomed, looked after and tidy.
And similarly the dictator recently ordered men in the state to copy his rather spectacular hair style, limiting growth to a maximum length of 2cm.
Anyone found breaching the restrictive guidelines laid down by Jong-un will have their hair shaved and shorn by the authorities to their leader’s highly stylised cut. It is believed that university students are being particularly pressurised as the crack down on ‘capitalist styles’ gains momentum.
Women don’t have to go to such extremes but are advised to copy the dictator’s wife’s hair style.
Get off that flipping internet!
I am constantly telling the child to get off the X-Box or PS4 or his tablet or whatever digital advice he’s plugged into. I have seen myself unplugging wifi from the wall when all demands to do homework or the tidying of rooms are ignored. The child complains that I won't let him play violent games.
Similarly internet access is hugely restricted in North Korea. Only specially permitted individuals, government officials or foreigners are allowed online and even then websites are heavily censored.
Turn that music down!
The almost teen has started playing a guitar and listening to loud music. Now I’m as liberal as the next mum when it comes to musical taste, but there’s a line and that line is drawn at Morbid Angel blaring at 300 decibels from under his door.
In a similar vein, Kim Jong-un does not tolerate any other music except Korean music, like the all-girl, all hand-picked by Kim Jong-un Moranbong Band with such classics as Let’s Learn are not permitted. People are also not permitted to play loud music.
Tidy your room!
My son’s room can go from tidy to crack den-esque in a matter of hours. I spend a vast amount of time begging, pleading, threatening and bribing the child to clean his space.
Similarly Kim Jong-un has a zero tolerance policy on untidiness and mess. The roads of his state are impossibly pristine, and indeed are lined with street cleaners who painstakingly sweep and maintain the roads.
Give me that mobile phone!
The teen, like most teens, is part child, part cyborg at times. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve confiscated his mobile phone after finding him on it when he’s supposed to be sleeping on school nights. Kim Jong-un banned mobile phones' use in 2011. He and I are like twins.
Do what I say. NOW!
Tidy your room! Get your hair cut! Stop hitting your brother! Stop hanging your clothes on the floordrobe! Turn that music down! Do your homework! Go to sleep! Wake up for school!
Yeah, pretty much how Kim Jong-un flies in North Korea every single day.
Now I have seen the error of my parenting ways, I will strive to be much less like Kim Jong-un in 2016 and let the boy be a guitar-playing, digitally savvy, rock n roll loving, long haired hippy if he wants.
