You're Not Entitled to Fun

So I just viewed a blog post that not only got under my skin, it set up camp and festered. In the article, a snarky mom (because it's the cool thing to be nowadays) boldly proclaimed not to her kids' teachers privately, but to the Internet that her children would not being doing homework because they needed to have fun.
Excuse me for a minute while I jump on my soapbox and state my own opinion on this subject:
1. Great example for your children - No kids, you don't have to do something if you don't want to or it interferes in your playtime.
2. You are not entitled to fun!

In our pampered overly privileged society, where we no longer have to toil for endless hours working, cleaning the house, making food from scratch, and helping others in society; we now expect all our massive amounts of free time to be fun.
I know my own family suffers from this phenomenon. To their ultimate chagrin, my kids have both on occasion complained "but that's not fun" when asked to do simple chores around the house. To which I respond, (after the urge to throw something passes) that it's not fun for me to clean the toilets, make them food, clean their clothes, drive them to school, and go grocery shopping. So maybe I should stop and see what happens because I want to sit on my butt and play too.

My mom always told me:
1. You make your own fun.
No one owes you a positive attitude. It's what you bring to the table. That's why I blast my Glee Radio on Pandora while mining for cat poo in the litter box and dance while cleaning house. If the new attitude is that's it's "all about me", then it's  "all on me" to make the best of things.
Homework can be a chore, but I also see it as a challenge. Something to be conquered. I always took pride in doing what my teacher asked wanting to do the best I could.

2. Suck it up kid & get it done.
My mom was a secretary most of her life. She was also a brilliant artist. Did she enjoy slogging all those mindless hours filing paperwork and writing reports for bosses who underappreciated her? No. But she did enjoy a paycheck that she used to pay the rent and fill the fridge and put gas in the car for our weekend adventures. And she found time for her art when she could.

Homework is boring to everyone. Even the teacher grading it. I know. I was a high school teacher. I also know I had to pull teeth just to get kids to turn anything in because the attitude was that homework was not fun and therefore, didn't need to be done.  Some of these seniors had spent their whole school career avoiding homework and even hating school except for P.E. because it was not fun. That's why they couldn't write complete sentences in 12th grade. Some didn't even know that Arizona was next to California. But why should they, it's not fun!

Look! I hate homework too. But I hate the attitude even more that we can blatantly be rude to the teacher, and disregard her time and energy for our own selfish agendas. I also fear the lessons being taught at home that you don't have to do anything unless you want to, and it's fun.
We are not entitled to have fun! As a society and decent human beings, we should be respectful, work hard, and entertain ourselves. Fun is a bi-product of our own attitudes and efforts.
After all, we are not separate islands floating on a social media sea. Our actions and the lessons we teach at home ripple out and affect others.

Truthfully kid, I love you but I'm bored to death with your chatter

     Yes, I've read the e-cards informing me that if I don't listen to my kids now and instill the habits of family conversations, they won't talk to me in their teenage years about important issues. And I get it. I want my kids to trust me and talk to me about all their insecurities large and small because I truly care about them and their personalities.
     But does that mean I have to feign interest in all twenty levels of Geometry Dash told to me in mind-numbing detail while walking the dog? And am I expected to memorize each Minecraft YouTubers name and alter-ego? Because I really don't fricking care if The Diamond Minecart is now known as Dan TDM, and he loves waffles and makes fun of pixelated cubic pigs. Or that there are 15 bosses in Terraria.
     Yes, I'm a horrible person and mother, the kind that doesn't believe everything my kids say is pure Facebook posting gold. But I am pretty sure my own mom tuned me out after ten minutes of regaling her with every My Little Pony or Cabbage Patch Kid doll, or the how I finally conquered the spider in Mountain King (I miss my Atari). (Have I given away my age?)
     But sometimes having the deep, soft-lighting conversations I envisioned when I was six months pregnant and talking to my over-stretched, chocolate filled belly evade me. My kids aren't deep, at least not yet. Yes, they are six and nine year old boys who favor fart jokes and Simpsons references and recaps of Gravity Falls.
     Questions about school invariably result in answers of "nothing", "the teacher yelled", or "Aiden chased Kaden around the playground with a dirty sock". When probed, I get long-winded details about the color of the sock, what it smelled like, how many people touched it, and how funny everyone's faces looked. This story is then repeated at least five more times with me trying to paint interest on my face each and every time.
     But their chatter bores me the same way a trip to the grocery story or an account of the minutes of the P.T.O meeting bores them. I can't tell them this though. I don't want to hurt them or have them stop talking to me making me miss out on all those deep conversations waiting patiently to happen.
     So for now, I plaster on the smile, bobbing my head up and down, making the expected conversational responses all the while counting calories or planning tomorrow's dinner as I pretend to learn about the door activating properties of Redstone in Minecraft.
     Just being honest, at least to myself.