Helen, it seems, is grounded. I was informed in international stereo, from the background hubbub over the Yahoo Messenger link, as my wife carefully explained her rationale while various items were displaced somewhere near her. Grounded, it seems, is not what it was, not what it used to be in the monochrome sixties. In fact, were we ever grounded? Parents must have valued their bit o’ peace and quiet too much to endanger it. Probably short sharp shocks were administered as the preferred tool.
Grounded in the 21st Century, at least as interpreted by Lyn, means withdrawal of stimuli. No TV, no computer, no gameboy (well, it would do if Helen had one: Santa proved reluctant to sell out completely to the information age). Grounded means rolling on the floor and talking to the baby because log-in to the Penguin Club is currently unavailable. Grounded means taking a longer shower, unbolting your food and discovering that Mum is not working today so-let’s-go-to-the-park!
Grounded might not be so bad after all…
Filed under: Family
