In the ongoing saga of the broken arm, I returned to the
hospital early Thursday morning with Kermit in tow but I forgot the damn crocs.
I was redeemed by the gift shop and a three pack of multi-colored walking socks
that every doped up seven year old would adore.
We returned home to an afternoon of movies, pizza, chips,
chocolate, and not a leafy green in sight. It was a three hour tour to crap
food town, but with my wife as the Captain we returned to the world of fruits
and vegetables by nightfall. It was a perfect day and just before we tucked
Julia into bed, she whispered…
“I am going to school
tomorrow.”
I had no intention of sending her to school on Friday. My
wife told me she was adamant about going to school and maybe we should consider
a half day. I disagreed and thought for her own good she should rest one more
day. Besides what kid doesn’t want to lie around all day Friday, watch
cartoons, and ride the wave of salty and sweet goodness.
As I rose from my slumber early Friday morning, I sensed a
great disturbance in the Force. I heard screaming coming from my daughter’s
room.
“I am going to
f***ing school! YOU will not keep me from f***ing school!
I ran to Julia’s room and instantly regretted my decision.
She turned her Vader-like gaze toward me and I was frozen by the clutching embrace
of the Dark Side. I expected to start choking and fall to the ground, but
luckily I was with my wife and much like the former Admiral Ozzel she was in
charge and would be the first to go.
“AND YOU!”
Now I was scared. Admiral or no Admiral.
“If you don’t let me
go to school, I will call the f***ing cops and you will go to jail!”
Some people have near death experiences and their lives
flash before their eyes. I had a near parenting experience and all the times I
gave in to my kids flashed before my eyes.
“We can go to the
zoo, but you have to tell mom we were at church.”
“Popcorn is a vegetable,
but just tell mom you ate vegetables.”
“If you stop crying,
I’ll let you drive home if you promise to take side streets.”
Was I going to give in to my daughter’s wild demands to read
stories, solve math problems, and visit with her friends? Would I force Tom &
Jerry down her throat and make her have her cake and eat it too? Was I going to
stick to my guns and worried that I was unarmed if I didn’t make the right
decision?
The girl went to school and had a wonderful day. She was
right, I was wrong, and I can easily live with that. But did I do the right
thing? Was this the failed Ben Kenobi training moment in the instruction of young
Anakin Skywalker?
After dinner yesterday and before storytime, my daughter said
to my wife and I…
“You and mommy are a
lot like Jesus except for the swearing.”
The acorn does not fall far from the tree.
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