I speak of this peculiarity in today's youth: Entitlements.

Backstory first: You all know, to some degree, my philosophy: If there are NO rules, then no rules can be broken. It's how I raised my sons. It's how we live. And this has served our little family well. It worked and continues to work- for the three of us.

Enter Molly, an almost-eighteen-year-old girl, kicked out of an abusive home at fourteen, and living most of the ensuing years either on the street or in various 'houses' with other, similarly damaged kids. And Boyd. Like a son to me. Also carrying the burdens of a crappy childhood and adolescence and... following the family footsteps of substance abuse.

I took them in because that is who I am. I opened up my home and my heart and gave them sanctuary because I can never ignore the pain or misfortune of others. I've been them. Someone, once, gave me a helping hand when I most needed it. A stranger. When we were homeless and in the street, he gave us money for a roof over our heads and food on the table till we were back on our feet. He didn't lend, he gave. And ever since, I have been paying back this kindness, however I can.

But here's the thing: My philosophy is, for the first time, being challenged. And I am having to seriously... think about laying down some rules. This is so unpalatable, so abhorrent to me, I cannot act. I cannot go against my beliefs and yet... Molly and Boyd- they are pushing me.

"Mum, you have to." This from Dylan, who sat on my bed as I deliberated out loud.

"I am not their mother! I shouldn't have to be! It's not my role to lay down rules!"

"They are taking advantage of you."

That's what is at the crux of it. They are both taking advantage of me.

What do I mean? Here's a quick example: Molly had swept their room last week. A pile of food crumbs, wrappers, dust and other small debris sat outside their door since. Every time I had to use the bathroom, there it was.

One day, I placed a small broom leaning on the wall, on top of it. That's where it stayed.

Yesterday, given my brother and his family were coming over and the two nephews would use part of that space leading from their room as a play area, I grabbed the broom and proceeded to sweep. Molly emerged.

"Oh! Thanks for doing that! See you later!"

Off she went, makeup thick, black fishnet stockings exposing 99% of her thighs, the rest of her encased in a long hoodie.

"What the fuck just happened?"

Dylan, who was passing me to get the dog-lead so we could walk to the supermarket along the shore, said, "That's your typical seventeen-year-old girl mum."

"NO!"

"You have to tell her."

We discussed what he and I concurred were 'entitled' teens, all the way to Chelsea.

"Mum, they don't understand! They've never been taught!"

"C'mon! It's common decency, manners- I mean you don't have to have a bloody Doctorate to know them!"

"No, you're wrong. And if you want to help them, you have to set some rules. You have to."

"I can't! That's not who I am!"

"Then tell them to go. It's causing us problems."

Harsh words, from him. Boyd is one of his closest friends.

But I did pause and think of all the things introducing angst and a sense of... ill-intrusion into our previous harmony: Walking one morning to find the bathtub full and... pink. Towels on the floor. Glasses and bottles of soft drink alongside. Three days later, the tub still full and pink and the pile of towels grown as had the drinks- these mainly when Molly got ready to go out, which was every day.

... All their week's washing dumped in the laundry and... forgotten. My mother washing it two days later.

Me after knocking on the door: "Molly, there's washing waiting to be hung."

Molly: "Oh, thanks!"

Mum, four hours later: "All three baskets are full, tell her I need her to hang their clothes so I can then hang mine!"

Me: "She's gone, I'll do it."

... And then the night I went without dinner. They'd got the munchies and I'd been pre-occupied writing, so it was 9.00pm when I went to the kitchen and-

"Where did my dinner go mum?"

"It's on the bench."

"No it's not- never mind."

... Boyd borrowed $50 off me. He got paid. I did not. (This is particularly bothersome to Dylan.)

As are his hair products. We guard our coconut range and each half-price day has us grinning gleefully. Or used to. Now it's a constant yelling of "Mum, any conditioner there?" "Dyls, got any face-wipes? Mine are gone. So's the coconut oil damn it!" "Whaaaat?"

As are his snacks, especially his Nacho Bean chips. "Didn't we buy two packs hon?"

"Ye but-"

"Oh."

... And the procession of 'friends sleeping over- both male and female... one night we had two strange guys stay over- so four people in a single bedroom- and one a girl of seventeen? In my home?

You see where I am going with all this? When I opened up my house to them... they walked in as though it were their own and they were therefore entitled to... everything a typical teenager feels entitled to.

Fuck that!

We may not have had rules in my little family... but we had scruples. And we were now witnessing something foreign to us: An ingratitude, a disrespect, a total lack of care. Entitlement had crept in and it was an insidious thing.

"I have to talk to them, babe." This said with definitive reluctance.

"Yep." Definitive certainty.

So here's what I am going to say to them. (And I am telling YOU now so that whichever side you are on, the one entitled or the one used- you see the OTHER side.)

"I don't care how hard your life has been. Mine's been harder and so has probably everyone else's. I have taken you in but I am not your mother. I shouldn't have to 'tell you' to do this or that. I shouldn't have to make allowances for poor you and pick up after you. Poor you, may now have a roof over your head and food in your belly but this doesn't mean you don't contribute, or if you can't contribute, at least respect other's possessions and ask before you take. You'll be fucked out there, carrying this attitude. Understand this: Your crappy past does not entitle you to live as though everyone owes you. No one owes you. YOU, in fact, are the one in moral debt. And if a helping hand is extended to you, don't assume it's that of a maid or a man-servant.

If you ever find yourselves as guests in someone's home, respect the privilege. Offer help where you can- offset the safety and security offered you by giving back- in any way you can. I mean by this, don't ride good intentions. Don't use people's kindness. WAKE UP!

Look around you! Clean up after yourselves. When you borrow something, give it back. You are earning money and are not asked to pay for board? Use some of it to replenish those things you all share, out of gratitude. Don't assume you can reach for the shampoo and it will always be there. Or the food in the kitchen. Or the money in a wallet. Don't assume you can just cruise through someone's house and leave a trail of selfishness and entitlement in your wake- without consequence.

Life will destroy you with this attitude. Life's a bitch. She'll bring you to your knees, right in the gutter; then she'll make you roll over and look up at the stars. Maybe then, you will understand. Maybe only when at your very end, will you get this: Life sucks for everyone, you don't hold a monopoly.

Be gracious, be polite and be respectful. Don't ever, ever assume because people care and take you in, that this entitles you to behave as though it is your home to do or not as you please... don't disrupt other's lives to live your own.

Harsh words.

But they have to be told. Boyd and Molly are not the odd pair, they are the new norm. I see facets of them everywhere I look. I see entitled youth. Taking, taking as though the world owes them... because the world fucked them over one way or another. Not realising that their actions or lack of, contribute to fucking others over, in turn.

Harsh words. But I can say them because I've been there. And because that didn't entitle me to anything- nor others of my generation. We didn't walk around as though the world owed us; we took on the world. Fought the bitch life without losing our scruples. Somehow... the generations after us took this and... like a Rubick's Cube all wrong, disassembled scruples till they became entitlements. Which you now parade around.

Live life because you've earned the right. Privileges and entitlements are for those who lack inner security and mask this by lack of outer care and focus on the self. Don't be them, don't leave a trail of disappointment behind you. This, not because rules have been broken or expectations not met but because you've lost ALL common decency, in your thirst of me, me, me. Poor me.

Don't take it personally. But do take heed- whichever side you're on: Generosity of spirit has limits."

Will Molly and Boyd get any benefit from the above? Who knows. It just has to be said.