Parents’ favoritism irks son and he needs to tell them

Dear Annie: How do you deal with ignorant relatives? My wife and I have two teenagers and three children younger than 12. We live an hour away from family and see them during holidays, birthdays, cookouts and such. I am close to both of my parents and speak to them daily. I believe they should have a good relationship with my kids. We also have nieces and nephews who live an hour away across state lines.

I recently found out that my parents have bought these nieces and nephews cellphones (to keep in touch) and special notebooks for them to write back and forth, and they also send them little gifts. Once a month, they are invited to spend the night at my parents’ house, while my kids have spent two nights there in four years. When I see my parents, they talk about how they never see my nieces and nephews, but I get to hear all about the stuff they do and their daily email chats.

I don’t understand how my parents can be so blind. They do nothing with my children. There is no bad blood between us. We are close. All I know is that I am sick of seeing my children hurt and tired of answering questions about why Grandpa and Grandma don’t call or let them stay over like they do with their cousins. How do I make this better? — Vermont

Dear Vermont: Grandparents sometimes don’t realize they are playing favorites, and there are a variety of reasons behind it. Often, they feel they must overcompensate for those kids who need them more. In your parents’ case, it’s possible that they know you will always keep your children close, but they aren’t so sure about the nieces and nephews, so they work harder at it. You need to tell your parents how you feel, and let them know that they are inadvertently damaging their relationship with your children. We hope they will recalibrate their energies to be more even-handed.

Dear Annie: I am 15 and very overweight. I’ve been this way since I was little. I’ve tried losing weight, but can never seem to keep it off for long.

What bothers me most is the intolerance at school. I hear the fat jokes and the whispers. I’d love to have a boyfriend, but the guys in my class only like the skinny girls. This has destroyed what little self-confidence I had.

I don’t understand why people can’t accept all body types. Nowadays you have to be thin to be considered pretty. I want to feel pretty, too, and know that people can like me as I am. Why can’t these attitudes be changed? — Confused in Connecticut

Dear Confused: That’s an excellent question. Attitudes like these are culturally entrenched and reinforced by media images. Fat jokes and nasty whispers are a form of bullying and should be reported to the school authorities. But instead of focusing on romance, simply work on being a good friend. Friends will see you through the rough spots.

But we also are worried about you. Extra weight can cause all kinds of physical problems. Please talk to your parents and have them make an appointment for you to see your doctor and a nutritionist. Get some exercise. Work on being healthy, regardless of your size.

Dear Annie: This is in response to “Noisy Dog Next Door.” I don’t disagree with your suggestions to call the neighborhood association and the humane society, but a quieter solution is available, too. There are battery-operated devices that emit a high-pitched sound that is uncomfortable to the dog. (Humans cannot hear it.) We used this for our neighbor’s dog. When he barked, we’d push the button and say, “No, Fido!” It worked like a charm. Now we only have to step out the back door for the dog to stop barking. — It’s Quiet Again

Annie’s Mailbox is written by Kathy Mitchell and Marcy Sugar, longtime editors of the Ann Landers column. Please email your questions to anniesmailbox@comcast.net, or write to: Annie’s Mailbox, c/o Creators Syndicate, 5777 W. Century Blvd., Suite 700, Los Angeles, CA 90045. To find out more about Annie’s Mailbox and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at creators.com.

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