How does that happen? How often do they see each other? |
Social graces. |
Exactly. Perfectly put. The original post was not about the less affluent kids at all. They were just useful objects. |
Social graces would mean being gracious to your hosts and appreciating their meal, not rolling your eyes at how disappointing they are. |
Indeed. This hasn't been an example of social grace. It's an example of social embarrassment. |
Dear Pot, There must not be a book in "sight" at your home "site" either, since you don't seem to know the difference. Love, Kettle |
This. I have a strong image of these "poor, stunted children" standing back in amazed silence as their aunt and their cousins brag and pompously hold forth about how awesome their lives are on the rich side of town. If your kid's cousins don't talk much around your kids, maybe it is because they don't like their rich cousins very much, not because their rich cousins are smarter or have better social skills. If the cousins are that uncomfortable, I would suggest that your kids have really shitty social skills. |
Their parents are not cognizant. They're creatures, sniffing the air, only aware of their churning bellies and throbbing genitals. Their poor, sad children stumble, hypnotized by tiny screens, and can only bark like seals at the sight of fish. Your polished, cosmopolitan children sashay up to them, with their glistening soft skills extended, and it really is like a horror movie. Not that we've ever seen a horror movie, have we, OP. So terrifying. |
I mean ... not far from the truth. TV ... sportball ... buying "stuff" ... popping out kids with no thought to grooming them for real success. |
| Wow OP. Poor ositive that money does not buy manners, or class. |
PROOF POSITIVE |
Who said OP is rich? Who said they're poor? I think this is more-so a middle vs upper middle class thing than the exaggerated scenario in your head.
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| I think I may know OP. She also behaves like this around her kids’ classmates! |
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Oh shuddering holidays OP. I was once invited to a thanksgiving meal at my sister's middle class ...hovel? shack? let's call it home. The experience is not one i will soon forget. I married well to a prominent Lawyer by day, Surgeon by night man. She married a man that works with his hands. I dont know what he does, but he uses tools not books or knowledge to earn a living*shudder*. We parked the Lambo right on the driveway, there was no gate or security. You could see the neighboors houses on both sides! We bravely got out of the car and dashed to the front door, hoping that the car would not be stolen or us mugged in the ungated walk to her front door. Her husband opened the door happy to greet us in... I was so confused to not see a Butler, I nearly threw my mink coat at my BIL. My sister had us sit in the living room (if you can Call it that, they housed the television there! vs a proper sitting room. I sat on this tremedous fluffy chair and BIL pulled the lever on my chair, saying to "relax on the recyliner"! Imagine my embrassment and fear to be put on display in such a manner ) while she finished cooking dinner. She was cooking it herself vs catering as is customary or hiring help. Her dogs came nexo, to attack us, licking and barking, so misbehaved compared to my 10
Ribbon award winning lap dog. I was so afraid they would devour us! I screeched until they finally removed the beasts from the room. The worst was when i saw my niece and nephew. I heart shattered at seeing how developmentally behind they were... They are so terribly dull. After greeting us niece wanted to show us her artwork.. I starred in horror at the lack of skill and dexterity her 5 year old glitter infused drawings showed. Nothing compared to my classically trained daughter's renditions. The nephew... (What was his name again?) kept talking about sports and then was too occupied looking with vacant eyes at his cellphone to engage in the intelectual reading my far superior son had prepared for the evening's entretainment. Finally we sat to dinner. The table was set by her incompetent children, they only had two forks, a knife and spoon each, vs the standard full set that one expects on such an occasion. The meal was served Family style! I repeat FAMILY STYLE! No separate courses, but all lumped in the middle of the table and these savages were passing bowls around. I felt so insulted! With little to no appetite i picked at my plate. I asked my sister when the turkey had been hunted and she blinked at me with Her uneducated gaze and said it was store Bought! They hadn't had the tradicional hound and horse hunt for wild turkey. I attempted several conversations about philosphy and arts but the conversation always devolved into pedestrian topics. My Family and I just starred horrified at the events that transpired that evening. It was truly Terrifying. Its been years and we haven't been invited back (unsure why but grateful). I have done therapy and feel much better.. But sometimes in the late of night, the wind carries the gobble gobble wild turkey Call that live in our estate and I have PTSD flashbacks. Truly sad and horrific. |
They see each other a couple of times a year. Nonetheless, my all three of my DS know their cousins' names. In this case, though, I think my nephew was belittling my DS and asking the question to make the point that my DS's name, and by extension, my DS, aren't worth remembering. |