For my grandsons: Essential Dutchness

Dear Robin, Rune, Jesse and Hedin

You are my grandsons. 

You are now between 3 and 10 years old. Today, I want to impart on you guys a grandfatherly lesson in a topic I would call "essential Dutchness for boys".

Newsflash: you are Dutch, laddies! And that has certain implications. 

I would miserably fail my obligations as your grandfather, if I did not enlighten you about those implications, quite apart from the obvious fact that you happen to be living in the most beautiful country in the world. Let's start with the general stuff. Being a Dutch boy means that you are supposed to:

1. Be highly opinionated, fairly blunt and pretty damn sure of yourself and in any discussion, make sure you always have the last word, preferably a sarcastic one
2. Passionately dislike and distrust Germans and consistently piss them off or better yet pick a fight with them at every available opportunity
3. Studiously ignore the French, even while on holiday there (a favourite expression of Dutch tourists is: France is a great country. Too bad there are so many Frenchmen living there...)
4. Learn to ride a bicycle. Oh and by the way, as you grow into your teens, you will also need to develop the skill of stealing someone else's bicycle as soon as your own has been stolen, which will invariably happen. Some smart university student once promoted on the thesis that if only you could wait long enough, your original bicycle will recycle back to you after (on average) 49,456 years, having been stolen and subsequently lost again by countless other cyclists in the country. It has euphemistically been described as the 'Dutch bicycle rotation system'.
5. Learn to ice skate, preferably on frozen lakes or canals, at home or abroad, covering ridiculously long distances. 100 km must be considered a minimum.
6. Develop a taste for raw herring, covered in chopped onions, which you MUST eat in the only socially acceptable way: On the street, head cocked way back, holding the fish by its slippery tail, dangling it right above your wide open mouth and letting it slide straight down your throat, with fat dripping down your cheeks.
7. Live in a house where a small fortune has been spent on expensive designer curtains, which subsequently are NEVER closed, because otherwise the neighbours walking their dogs can't be envious of the big flat screen TV in your living room.
8. Go on holiday all over Europe by car, preferably towing a gigantic caravan, with the fridge and kitchen cabinets stuffed to the brim with all those Dutch goodies.

But there are some additional 'essential Dutchness' requirements and obligations for boys.

As a Dutch boy, you are in particular also supposed to:

1. Play football (I mean the variety that Americans call 'soccer', not that sissy sport of theirs where they wear helmets, shoulder and crotch padding, for Chrissakes!) and make sure you look extra snappy in orange coloured attire. 
2. Be an expert advisor to the unlucky devil who happens to be the coach of the Dutch national football team and who simply doesn't 'get it'. You live in a country with 8 million qualified national  football coaches
3. Stick your finger in any hole in any dyke (except the variety that would subsequently clobber you over the head with her handbag) because that is what legend expects little Dutch boys to do.
4. Pretend to ignore the fact that - as a species - your female counterparts (Dutch girls) ARE indeed among the most beautiful in the world and pretend that you really couldn't care less. It is considered "cool" to pretend you don't notice their beauty and charm. Just be your obnoxious self around them and they will adore you! 
5. Be devoted, nice and kind to your mother, Not only does the poor woman have to deal with YOU, she also has to deal with your Dutch DAD, and wet-nursing multiple Dutch boys/men is more than any woman could possibly be expected to cope with. So please love and support her!

So there you have it, dear grandsons of mine, my lesson for the lot of you in 'essential Dutchness'. Remember this simple little checklist of requirements and expectations, and you will sail through childhood, adolescence and adult life. It will be a walk in the park.

Now be good lads and get me a beer, a herring, a football and some porn, will you?

With love,

Tweeter Opa