Would You?
We have a contract in our house. The subject is driving. Anyone with a license for less than one month – ok, you get the point – must agree to its terms and sign before being offered the privilege of car keys.
The contract covers things like: a) cell phones in the car; b) who can and cannot be a passenger; c) in whose car the new driver may be a passenger; d) costs of use and cleanliness; e) no drinking, texting, fumbling with an ipod; f) curfews; g) full disclosure of anything gone wrong; h) promises about the parental response (don’t misinterpret – all consequences remain on the table but with a promise of listening first); i) the process of determining consequences (including an appeal).
For some reason, our contract came up in conversation recently with some friends who looked at me quizzically in response.
Gotham, have you employed any similar types of strategies to stress the importance of something in your house? I need some support here!

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I have rules. Call me day and night if you decide to drink. I will pick you up anywhere (hello sacred heart 2 hours away)
Tickets...all yours. I don't care If you have to work FT time to pay them. Obey the law.
Road rage (I have never tolerated)...the car will belong to me. Each of my boys have a gas card that I pay for (traveling back and forth to school is expensive)--just last night I took Chris' card away not because of anything to do with driving.
Parenting is a tough gig.
I like your contract safety first!
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While we were in Spain last summer, our son had a bunch of his friends over to the house early on a Sunday morning (like 3am) where they were drinking very lightly (one Scotch a piece) and sitting out by the pool. Another kid, who isn't part of my son's core group of friends showed up, and began guzzling alcohol (like ten shots in fifteen minutes). He passed out and some of the girls got frightened and demanded that the ambulance be called (they were 18 then). So the volunteer ambulance arrived, as did a police car.
Since our son wasn't sure what to do, he phoned my cousin up in Bedford Hills, and she spoke to the officer. Bottom line, he was given a ticket with a mandatory court date.
Now, we live in a small, tight-knit community that still upholds certain standards, so we got into our suits and ties and went down to village hall. The judge, whom I have known and worked with for over twenty years in civil society, was presiding over all matter of nasty cases of fraud, harassment, etc., so my son's open alcohol seemed like small beer (pun intended).
His was the last case called, and when John (the judge) saw me, he let out a hearty laugh and shook his head (signaling to me that his kids were a whole lot more rambunctious than mine-- they had a reputation in their day). Punishment was twenty hours of community service in Bronx food pantry. Justice done!
Moral of the story, our son was mortified and thought we'd be furious with him. Of course we weren't (my wife and I happen to think that a drinking age of 21 is ridiculous on so many levels), but admonished him never to let that kid back to the house. He was already on that one...
Raise 'em right, and they won't disappoint. That's my take on parenthood this week.
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