Withering Glance: Raising kids or a ruckus?

Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.

CP: Now that young people have Snapchat and Candy Crush, Facebook and Netflix, how are parents getting all the household chores done?

RN: Being a kid today would be exhausting. So many activities. So many attention-grabbers. So many helicopter-ing parents.

CP: You want exhausting? Lock up those kids' PlayStations and mobile devices every Saturday morning until they have successfully raked, weeded, mopped, sorted, dusted, recycled, mowed and shoveled. Should I go on?

RN: Please don't. Humanity should be thrilled that I never procreated, as I would have raised the most spoiled, self-indulgent, glued-to-their-Instagram brat imaginable.

CP: Yeah, I'm not really picturing a Strict Rick. More like an Uncle Pamper. Taking your not-kids on all kinds of interesting outings and to all kinds of just-opened food trucks would, of course, be tons o' fun for them. But it will not get those gutters cleaned out.

RN: So what others would consider offspring, you would view as handymen. Most parents fill their Facebook pages with images of their children's accomplishments. Your kids' only online presence would take place entirely on Angie's List.

RN: I had no idea Joan was so Dickensian. I've always pictured you growing up in a highly coddled, very "Free to Be You and Me" environment.

CP: Ha. We lugs had to work for our meager allowance. Haven't today's parents more or less given up on that idea? "Why would I make Courtney fold the laundry when she is so busy communicating with her 712 friends?"

RN: I suppose that there's nothing wrong with having Mom and Dad underwrite your twice-weekly blowout at Blast, rather than earning spending money at Panda Express. In hindsight, I appreciate my teenage employment track record. I met interesting people, and I didn't have to constantly ask my parents for cash. And I learned valuable lessons, mostly how I didn't want to fold Levi's and ask "May I help you?" at County Seat for the rest of my life.

CP: Slaving over a hot keyboard has its stresses, but it's nothing compared with restocking an entire A&P store each night. Still, it seems like the youth of today expect to land a big job with a massive salary and five weeks vacation straight out of college. Or am I overstating?

RN: It does feel that way. Maybe we're just jealous. My first job out of college was as a substitute teacher. Salary? Forty bucks a day, and I never knew when I was going to work, until I got a call at 6 a.m., asking if I could be at Valley Middle School in an hour. I knew I'd hit rock bottom when I said "yes" to an industrial arts assignment.

RN: Are you kidding? The emotional scars from dealing with those little darlings is probably why I'm childless today.

E-mail: witheringglance@startribune.com