An obvious division springs to mind here on the basis of sex, and a radical variation in attitude is based on it.
1. Yeio – son.
The ultimate mangoscini is the ability to produce a son. He is the fruit of your loins and your true immortality. He will carry your name forward to a new generation and thus must be free and unfettered by any trace whatsoever of restriction in the form of discipline or parental control.
Hideous brats of this type are the strongest imaginable argument in favour of arming nursery school teachers. Despite this, these horrors are humoured, over pampered, overfed and over tolerated. Ripping apart the television shows latent electrical genius and ripping apart the dog with the bread-knife means he wants to be a doctor.
2. Korie – daughter.
An un-mangoscini, somewhere a sperm slipped up. She is the fruit of your wife's loins and the source of someone else's true immortality. She will cost you a fortune to marry off and will no doubt expect you to baby sit a new generation. Thus she must be seen and not heard, and not get pregnant unless he has money.
In fairness, frequent exceptions to these rules exist in that you may see a daddy's little princess being allowed to scream herself into vomiting in someone's Jacuzzi because she was not permitted to drown the cat in it, but in all probability her little brother gave her the idea first. (Unless, of course, he is already floating face-down among the bubbles with the cat for company.)
Whatever the species, The children of Cyprus are commonly found rampaging in sugar-induced frenzy around the back of their parents cars unrestricted by seatbelts or parental control, abusing the local wildlife with sticks and rocks whilst the parents smile on in approval and then being rushed, while screaming in fury, to the hospital to jump the queue at accident and emergency if the parents think there might have been germs on the stone or perhaps the child has a possible splinter requiring x-rays and a general anaesthetic to induce it to lie still for examination.