Ladies and Gentlemen, in my daily researches, I found this little fragment of a journal entry folded up in a really old book. I thought you might be interested.
"15th of April, in the year of our lord 1578.
I do not like this school, for indeed the subjects of study bore me so. It is no concern of mine how many chickens Farmer Horatio will have should every egg of every chicken hatch. The sciences too are a tedious bore. Yes, yes. Everything revolves around the earth and if left alone cheese will turn to rats. But why must I know this? And literature! Ha! A lark indeed, those assignments! I am sick of and shall never again read Euripides. What concern do I have what some dead Greek wrote in some play hundreds of centuries past? I should rather take Anne to a joust or to The Theatre to see a comedy and perhaps, plying her with mead, obtain my own military victory. Alas. Tis probably my lot to grow old and take over father's business... Until next I write,
(Editor's Note: I fixed the spelling.)
There you have it. Kids never change, just the specifics of what they complain about.
You have been informed.