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Someday when my children are old enough to understand the logic
that motivates a parent, I will tell them, as my Mean Mom told me:

I loved you enough to ask where you were going, with whom, and
what time you would be home.
I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover that your new
best friend was a creep
I loved you enough to make you go pay for the bubble gum you had
taken and tell the clerk, "I stole this yesterday and want to pay for it."
I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned
your room, a job that should have taken 15 minutes.
I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, and tears
in my eyes.  Children must learn that their parents aren't perfect.
I loved you enough to let you assume the responsibility for your actions
even when the penalties were so harsh they almost broke my heart.
But most of all, I loved you enough . . to say NO when I knew you would
hate me for it. Those were the most difficult battles of all.  I'm glad I won
them, because in the end you won, too.  And someday when your
children are old enough to understand the logic  that motivates parents,
you will tell them.
Was your Mom mean?  I know mine was.  We had the meanest mother
in the whole world!  While other kids ate candy for breakfast, we had to
have cereal, eggs, and toast.  When others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie
for lunch, we had to eat sandwiches.  And you can guess our mother
fixed us a dinner that was different from what other kids had, too.
Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we
were convicts in a prison.  She had to know who our friends were, and
what we were doing with them.  She insisted that if we said we would
be gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or less. 
We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve to break the Child
Labor Laws by making us work.  We had to wash the dishes, make the
beds, learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do laundry, and empty the trash
and all sorts of other cruel jobs. I think she would lie awake at night
thinking of more things for us to do.
She always insisted on us telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth.  By the time we were teenagers, she could read our minds
and had eyes in the back of her head.  Then, life was really tough!
Mother wouldn't let our friends just honk the horn when they drove up.
They had to come up to the door so she could meet them.
Because of our mother we missed out on lots of things other kids
experienced.  None of us have ever been caught shoplifting, vandalizing
other's property or ever arrested for any crime.  It was all her fault.
Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. We are
doing our best to be mean parents just like Mom was.  I think that is
what's wrong with the world today.  It just doesn't have enough mean

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