Effective Parenting Through Visual Aids

We all want our kids to be safe. We try to keep them from juggling knives, poking pit bulls in the eyes, playing with matches (got that Alan?), and running while holding a pair of scissors. Being kids though, they generally look for the loophole and while they may temporarily stop doing something, like running with scissors, they will usually slightly modify their hobby by holding something else, like a hand grenade or gas-powered hedge trimmer.

Fortunately, these days there is e-mail and every once in a while you get something that makes your job as a parent a little bit easier. I have probably told my kids a million times not only not to run with scissors in their hands, but not with any sharp objects in their grasp be it knives, forks, pencils, syringes or meat thermometers. Each time I do, they roll their eyes and give me the disinterested, "Yes father, o wise bald one". Obviously, they don't believe me anymore than I believed my parents so I had to show them proof, whipping out a picture I recently received in my inbox to drive home the point on why it is not a good idea to goof around in the kitchen while holding a fork:

The effect the picture had was predictable. They gave the child his due sympathy by saying "Awwww, the little boy has a boo-boo on his nose! That's so sad!" and then went on continuing with their potentially lethal behavior. This forced me to up the ante and kick up the shock factor a bit by showing them the full efect of what really happened:

It was much more effective, but now they regard their silverware as if we slathered it in Mad Cow Disease before putting it on their place setting, preferring to eat with their fingers. With a little luck, I'm hoping that it will also counteract any body piercing fetishes they may develop as teenagers as well.

First Day of School

My oldest son started kindergarten yesterday, which ended up being quite an exercise in anxiety. I do not remember having this with my daughter, as she takes after her mother and has a healthy respect for authority. My son however, seems to take after me and I half expected him to arrive home with a black eye, torn shirt, a decomposing turtle that succumbed to a lengthy incarceration in his Buzz Lightyear backpack and several hastily written prescriptions for industrial strength doses of Ritalin.

Don’t get me wrong, he is a very bright kid but the ability to follow directions is not exactly among his strongest character traits. But to be fair, if you listen to my wife’s point of view it is not exactly mine either. Our afflictions are a little different though. With him, you have to tell him four times to do something before he acknowledges that he’s being talked to, then you have to explain the requested task twice so that he can repeat it back to you, then you get to watch as he delegates the job it to the imaginary monster that follows him around the house (the same one that drops a healthy deposit of “Number 2” in the toilet in MY bathroom and then leaves without flushing or wiping) while he goes back to the couch to finish watching “Handy Manny”. In my case though its usually just a simple misunderstanding. My wife tells me to go to the store to pick up milk, eggs and bread and I come back with a six-pack of Labatts, a bag of Doritos and a fresh copy of “Girls Gone Wild: Topeka, Kansas”, which is actually her fault for mumbling.

The morning went as smoothly as it did on school days last year. Neither my son nor my daughter wanted to get out of bed, but my two-year-old burst out wide awake and was demanding 100% of his parents’ attention while we tried to get the other two ready. Then we had to force feed them a nutritious breakfast of sugar-spiked chocolate cereal so that we can be reasonably assured that their respective teachers are earning their paychecks. We usually wait until the second week of school before we pump them full of coffee and then send them out the door with a couple of bottles of Mountain Dew.

Afterwards we have to get them dressed. My daughter is quite the fashion pioneer so I was not the least bit surprised to see her emerge from her room wearing a pink camouflage skirt, white Hello Kitty top, tennis shoes and long, purple, leopard spotted gloves that stretched to her elbow, looking like a cross between elegant formal wear and the wrist-guard from the most flamboyant bowler the city of San Francisco has ever seen. My son has much simpler tastes in clothing and came down in a striped polo shirt, shorts and “Finding Nemo” flip flops. After a brief, albeit violent and bloody struggle, we got him into socks and tennis shoes as well.

Next was getting their backpacks loaded. My daughter’s was not too hard. As a second grader, she knew what she needed in school. My son though was a little less clear on the concept. It was another struggle, but we eventually got him to leave behind the Laser gun he got at Disneyworld, his Pirates of the Caribbean action figures and his Buzz Lightyear cell phone that he needed in case his imaginary monster got lonely and needed to call him. I told him that I was pretty sure his monster would be busy soiling all of the toilets while he was gone since I cleaned them over the weekend.

After a round of pictures, we got the group out the door to the bus stop. My daughter trudged up the steps without hesitation, but I saw my son pause at the top to take a moment to talk to the bus driver. I do not know what he said, but I hoped it was not something along the lines of, “Hi! My name is Forrest Gump. People call me Forrest Gump.”

After that, he was gone. Then my wife called me a little after 11:00 to tell me that the school had called. My mind immediately raced to my son. Did he come to the conclusion that kindergarten just was not for him and decide to make a break for it? Did his imaginary monster arrive to and decide to bust the joint up? Did he greet the teacher with words that he probably learned from me while watching the University of Michigan football game last Saturday? Though I had talked to him several times about how inappropriate it was to moon people at daycare, did he think that it was OK to do it in kindergarten?

Actually, it turned out my son was just fine. My daughter on the other hand, had pink-eye.

For the Football Fans:

It is a sports story that is hard not to be inspired by.

Sometime over the summer, one of the most respected college football teams in the United States went out looking for a sacrificial lamb that they could trounce on national television as a warm-up to their real competition in a few weeks. To ensure a victory, they chose a paltry, little-known school in the mountains of North Carolina and offered them almost half a million dollars to help convince them to come to their campus and get beaten bloody by a team that would almost certainly be playing their third-stringers by halftime.

That was an awful lot of money for a little school, so they took the bait. Instead of resigning themselves for the inevitable however, they watched the films, noted what they believed to be weaknesses in their opponents’ strategy and trained to exploit them. When game day arrived, they were accorded so little respect that the national networks did not even bother to broadcast the game. The match was aired on a fledgling network that focused exclusively on the conference they would be playing against.

Still, this team sprinted right out of the gate and lunged at their opponents like their lives depended upon it. Despite the odds, they scored some early successes in the first quarter, even managing to get a touchdown which was probably initially regarded by their opponents’ fans as little more than dumb luck. These little guys from North Carolina though would not let them stay in denial for long however, for they owned their opponents during the second quarter.

They hit their opponents hard and mercilessly, driving them deep into the dirt and then dancing upon their graves. Before halftime, they scored 21 more points and allowed their adversaries one measly field goal. As the half ended, the stands were silent as over one hundred thousand of the most zealous fans realized that their cherished team was sinking faster than Tony Soprano in a cement Speedo.

The fans did get a little reassurance in the third quarter as their defense regrouped and kept those feisty bumpkins to a solitary field goal, but the visiting defense never let up and kept the home team to a single touchdown and a field goal. It was the fourth quarter though that really got exciting.

The visiting offense was getting tired and the defense was getting beat up. The home team finally rallied and, with 4 minutes and 36 seconds left in the game, took a one point lead. In a truly Herculean response though, the visitors managed to march down the field just enough to launch a 24 yard field goal that put them back on top with a mere 26 seconds left on the clock.

Then the unthinkable happened to the little team from North Carolina. A couple of solid plays by their opponents put the heavily favored home team into field goal range. With absolutely no time left to respond, all they had accomplished on the field looked lost. They had made a giant effort and earned the respect of the nation but in the end, it appeared as if they would still leave the field with a heartbreaking loss. As the home team snapped the ball, they had established themselves as true gladiators even though they were facing down almost certain defeat.

But then someone on the offence missed an assignment and against the odds, the visiting team blocked the kick. The won the game and left the entire country reeling and applauding what could very well be the greatest upset in college football history.

Their accomplishment was astounding. It was uplifting. It was inspiring, joyous and miraculous. How could anyone not love these exceptional players for pulling off one of the greatest wins to ever grace the world of collegiate football? The answer to that question is quite easy actually. THEY ACCOMPLISHED THIS FEAT AGAINST THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN FREAKIN’ WOLVERINES FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

I LIVE IN FREAKIN’ MICHIGAN! OUR FOOTBALL OPTIONS ARE RATHER LIMITED, PLAYING HOST TO LACTATING MATT MILLEN AND HIS PATHETIC LIONS! THE WOLVERINES ARE THEY ONLY THING I’VE GOT WHEN IT COMES TO FOOTBALL! DOES ANYONE OUT THERE REALIZE HOW LONG THIS SEASON IS GOING TO BE FOR ME NOW?!?! DO YOU?!?! ALL I ASK FOR IS TO HAVE ONE FOOTBALL TEAM THAT I CAN RELY ON! ONE! AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?!?! WHAT IN THE WORLD HAVE WE DONE TO DESERVE THIS?!?! WHAT?!?! I MEAN…SON-OF-A-BITCH!...WHO ARE WE GOING TO LOSE TO NEXT?!?! THE MARY KAY INSTITUTE’S BADMINTON LEAGUE???

Man, this is EXACTLY the kind of thing that breeds atheists.