The Sons of The Fathers (or Pride Goeth Before a Fall)

One hot summer afternoon two old work mates, who hadn’t seen each other for some years, chanced to meet in a pub in South Brisbane. Pretty soon the conversation got around to their families and, in particular, their sons, who were both around fourteen years old. One man’s face lit up as he began to talk of his pride and joy:

“To tell you the truth, mate, I’m so proud of our Rupert. Luckily, he inherited his brains from his mother and, thanks to all her efforts – ramming home the importance of a good education – Rupert has knuckled down and really got into a good work ethic. He doesn’t waste time watching television, or spend time on the computer – unless it’s something to do with homework – and he doesn’t even go out with girls. Rupert has a mobile phone but uses it sensibly and is always in touch if he’s going to be late home for dinner. He spends at least two hours every day on home work and another three hours reading science books… for his own pleasure! He says he wants to be an astrophysicist! And what about your son? What does he want to do?”

“Oh Carlos,” began the other man despondently. “Carlos thinks the world owes him a living. He has a mobile phone and uses it at every opportunity – even at the dinner table – but never answers when we call him. He stays up all night watching television, twanging his guitar or playing computer games – even when his girlfriend is staying over – and then he, or they, stay in bed till one o’clock in the afternoon. He’s always late for school – when he bothers to turn up – and doesn’t give a damn about education.”

“Crikey mate, aren’t you worried? Haven’t you asked what he intends to do for a living?”

“Oh, he says he wants to be a garbage man…”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, he thinks they only work on Thursdays!”

(From the Bird-man of Brisbane)