<p>I am so surprised this thread hasn’t been moved to the cafe a long time ago, but it is interesting reading.</p>
<p>I have trouble with “my house my rules” as an absolute. </p>
<p>I can still remember a huge fight with my parents when I was 17 because I was eating some lettuce (sans dressing) with my fingers and was told to leave the table or use a fork.</p>
<p>Well, I was more than willing to use the fork (pick your battles, show respect, etc.), but I insisted that this was arbitrary rule given that I could eat fried chicken and sandwiches with my hands.</p>
<p>My parents wouldn’t agree to that. According to them, there was some universal law that insisted that no people in any culture can politely eat lettuce with their hands.</p>
<p>Hm. I left the table, and after many, many fights about their rules, left home a year early without finishing high school. It’s okay. I now have a PhD, but payed for college and grad school myself, and no fancy schools or pedigrees, sigh!!!</p>
<p>I don’t think they would have sent me anyway.</p>
<p>So, on many occasions, I have “bent my rules” or altered my way of thinking for my kids.</p>
<p>For example, one day I told my D, who was then in HS, that her bra straps were showing and she should pin her clothes. She said, “everyone lets their bra straps show nowadays.” She wasn’t flaunting them, they just happened to peak out.</p>
<p>I said, “sensible. That was bane of my existence summers when I was young. Had to resort to tube tops.”</p>
<p>So rules can change depending of the needs of the community.</p>
<p>I don’t allow smoking, though, because that’s a health issue for me. D’s boyfriend goes onto the porch. Still on my premises but not in my asthmatic lungs.</p>