17/08/2026
Apparently, my son saves his arguments specially for me.
I came home yesterday after being away for the weekend, and the children were so excited to see me.
Honestly, those first few minutes were lovely.
Hugs.
Questions.
Everybody had something to tell me.
Then, of course, David remembered something very important.
His computer.
“Mother, can I have my computer? I haven’t used it for THREE DAYS.”
The suffering in his voice, please.
He and his sister had spent part of the weekend at my friend’s house, and David had plenty of stories.
Now, my friends are very much like me when it comes to discipline.
In fact, some of them might even be stricter.
So David casually announced:
“Mother, I went to bed at 7pm.”
I burst out laughing.
“You? 7pm?”
Then I asked the obvious question.
“And you didn’t argue?”
He looked at me.
“How could I?”
I stopped.
“Wait. You mean you can go to somebody else’s house, they tell you to go to bed at 7pm and you quietly go…
…but in this house, if I tell you to go to bed, we can suddenly find ourselves in a parliamentary debate?”
He looked at me as though the answer should have been obvious.
Then he said:
“Haba, you are my mother. This house is my safe place. But when I’m outside, I know my boundaries.”
Chi m oooo.
I didn’t even know whether to be impressed or offended.
So all this time, the young man KNOWS?
He knows when to stop.
He knows when not to argue.
He knows how to behave in somebody else’s home.
He has simply decided that his mother deserves the premium package ,complete with questions, negotiations and appeals.
But later, I thought about what he said again.
“This house is my safe place.”
And suddenly, I didn’t find it quite as funny.
Because perhaps there is something beautiful hidden inside all those arguments.
Our children should know their boundaries.
They should understand respect.
They should know that being comfortable at home is never an excuse for rudeness.
But I also want my children to know that home is where they can ask the difficult question.
Where they can disagree respectfully.
Where they can tell us when something doesn’t make sense to them.
Where they can make mistakes and still know they belong.
Maybe one of the signs of a safe home isn’t that children never challenge us.
Maybe it’s that they know where the boundaries are, but they’re not afraid of us.
Still…
David, my darling.
Since we’ve now established that you possess the ability to go to bed at 7pm without an appeal…
I will be keeping this information for future reference.
Parents, please tell me:
Why do our children suddenly become ambassadors of good behaviour in other people’s houses?
