Even though actual classes don’t start for us until tomorrow, you can feel the cloud over this house today.
I don’t mind that my son doesn’t love school; I didn’t exactly love it myself at his age. Heck, for that matter I don’t exactly love it now, and I have direct experience to support my belief in the value of a good education!
People talk a lot about the “joys of parenthood,” and a lot of it is just that . . . talk. Some of the real joys don’t get talked about much, like the joy of playing with your child when they’re acting out the role of the monster and they suddenly demonstrate the way to defeat said monster is to bean it three times in the head with a soft, squeaky dog toy like so . . .
Last week I mentioned in passing to my son that Pluto had lined up with the orbital plane of the rest of the major planets of the solar system for the first time in 87 years, and that it would be 161 years until it does this again.
Unfortunately, I made the tactical error of doing this right before his bedtime, and the news thrilled him so much that an impromptu celebration had to be held on the spot and I had to promise to mention this fact in Candles & Curses before he could even think about sleep.
Nothing in this life or any other has prepared me for my son’s current obsession with Super Mario Bros. . . . and he’s never even played the game!
(And I remember when I thought the Doctor Who resurgence was strange.)
Arguing nutrition with a child is as effective as arguing meteorology with a hurricane.
Me: *looking up and seeing my son approaching even though he was completely concealed by the blanket he was holding* Oh, look. It’s a walking blanket.
My Son: *covers me with said blanket*
Me: It is now dark, so I shall go to sleep. *makes snoring noises*
My Son: *starts playing my head like it’s a drum*
Me: I am being used as a percussion instrument, and am now awake.
My Son: *removes the blanket, grins at me, then leaves without saying a word*
Yes, son, I am adamant that your screen time is linked to your physical activity level. No, you don’t “have” to do anything, but if you want screen time, you need to intersperse that time with active time, or there will be no screen time.
No, I don’t expect you are happy about that. I certainly wasn’t when I introduced the same rule for myself.
My son: Hey, Dad. I’m just watching a video, but I’m not going to watch all of it because I don’t want to waste my time.
Me: You’re on your own time right now, so you can watch the whole video if you want. You don’t have to call it a “waste of time” on my account.
My son: It’s ten hours long.
Me: That would be a waste of your time then!
My son: *utilizing a toy as a makeshift crystal ball* I can see into your future!
Me: Good thing I’m in the market for a peek into my future then.
My son: You shall . . . get very little sleep tonight.
Me: Well that doesn’t sound very appealing! Besides, I’ve been working to even out my sleep schedule lately, so barring an emergency, I’ll probably sleep just fine.
Me: (Later, and still wide awake at 1:30 A.M.) Huh.
