The Gift that Keeps On Punishing

When I was a kid, my mom told me I should never sneak peeks at my Christmas presents before the big day. She warned me that if I ever found my presents before December 25th, the discovered items would be returned to the store. My wife grew up with a similar rule and once had to learn her lesson the hard way. There's no better way to keep a kid honest over the holidays. We've kept up this tradition with our son.

Unfortunately, our boy is a Compulsive Rule Follower. This doesn't mean he's perfect or even exceptionally well-behaved. You can find plenty of ways to be bad without breaking any written or verbal code. But when the rules have been spoken and confirmed, this kid takes them extremely seriously. That's why I caused him a minor heart attack when bringing in some groceries a few weeks ago.

"Hey, pal! Guess what! I just got back from the store and one of the things I got is for yooooooou!"

Boy, I'm such a fun dad. He's going to be so excited.

"What do you mean?" Jono asks.

"I got one of your birthday presents!"

Jono immediately covers his eyes and jumps behind a couch.

"No! Why did you do that?! I'm not looking!"

"Oh, hey, pal... it's okay. I have it all wrapped up. You won't be able to see it."

A muffled voice answers from behind a couch cushion. "No, thanks. I'm staying back here."

I go into another room and hide the present.

"It's safe now, Jono. The present is hidden."

"I won't go in that room. I'll never go in there. Is it in the closet?"

"No," I say. "It's... not like last time. I hid it even better!"

"I'm just going to stay back here," Jono says.

"Behind the couch? Forever?"

Silence greets me from beyond the cushions.

Boy, I'm a fun dad.

A "Little" "Friendly" Competition

My son likes to win. Who doesn’t, right? No one likes losing. But some people handle losing better than others. I’ve been a Royals fan my entire life and haven’t seen them in the playoffs since I was two. I have an incredible ability to deal with losing. In that way, my son is nothing like me.

This kid has to win at everything. He has to be the biggest and the strongest. Once he told me that no human could beat up a gorilla. No human but him, of course. Now, unless the competition involves spelling or nose-picking, my kid will not beat a gorilla. But if you try to tell him that, he’ll flex his muscles and assure you that a gorilla fight wouldn't be a problem.

But his need for victory isn’t limited to imaginary fights with wild animals. He has to win in day-to-day life, too. Here’s an example of a typical moment in our house:

Me: “Jono, let’s go downstairs and get your hair brush out of the bathroom.” (I start walking toward the stairs.)

Jono: “Um… WAIT! Wait… uh… just a sec. (Jono quickly runs to stand on the step directly in front of me.) “Ok, let’s just walk kinda slow, ok?”

Me: (Trying to squirm my way around him on the stairs) “Uh, yeah, let me just…”

Jono: “No! HAHA! WAIT!” (Jono runs as fast as he can down the stairs and into the bathroom.) “HAHAAAAAAA! I WON! I TRICKED YOU!”

Me: “Yes, you’re very smart.”

Were we racing for the hair brush? No. Well, I wasn’t. Jono is always racing for everything. 

When I ask him about school, he likes to tell me about his victories on the soccer field at recess. He’ll say, “We won at soccer today!” Or maybe, “We lost but tomorrow we will NOT lose and we'll beat EVERYONE!”

The kid also likes racing in cars. For example, sometimes we wind up with two cars at church on Sunday mornings. (I know… we’re Americans and we hate the environment.) When it’s time to leave, Jono will usually get to pick which car he wants to ride in. This is a typical ride home from church:

Jono: “I wanna riiiiiiiide wiiiiiiith… uh… Dad!”

Me: “Ok, let’s go.”

Jono: “Okaaaay! HAHA! We’re gonna beat Mom!”

Me: “I dunno. Mom is pretty fast.” [She is. And somehow she never gets speeding tickets. I think it’s because she’s gorgeous.]

Jono: “She’s not as fast as us!” (We climb into the car. Mom pulls out ahead of us.)

Jono: “Go faster, Dad! OOOOOOH, HOHO! We’re catching up! GoFastGoFastGoFast! Fasteeeeeerrrrr! WE WON! (Car door opens) WE BEAT YOU, MOM! You were NOT as fast as us! HAHA!”

Usually these “games” are amusing. But problems arise when Jono thinks we’re having some sort of ongoing Intelligence Competition. For instance, if I try to tell him how to spell a word, he realizes that I knew something he himself did not. This is heresy.

“No, that’s not how you spell it,” he’ll say.

“Uh, yeah. It is, son.”

“No, you’re not telling the truth.”

Yeah. I have so much to gain from this deception. And this conversation is definitely worth it.

He just hates to be outdone. Sometimes we have competitions to see who can be the most stubborn. (Here’s a hint: I can.)

Years ago I took upon myself the household title of “Big Kahuna.” When Jono would throw a fit or disobey, I’d tell him to remember that I was his boss. I was the Big Kahuna. At this point, it became a battle of wills. If he would submit to the Kahuna’s will, all would go well with him. Otherwise, he would be pinned in a wrestling hold and forced to confess my title and authority. 

Tantrums decreased. 

We bought him this shirt.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m a big bully and a jerk.

Anyway, where was I going with this? Oh, right. My son is competitive and I’m not.

THE END

Parental Savant Syndrome

When I was a kid, I noticed something strange about my parents. Sometimes they seemed to know EVERYTHING.

Once I was reading the Bible and my dad asked me to read it out loud. I read, “The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel: for gaining wisdom and instruction…”

“Ah, Proverbs 1,” my dad said with a nod.

“How did you know that?!”

“Well, I’ve read the Bible before.”

Wow. He had read the whole Bible! Maybe more than once! He knew which chapter I was reading just by listening to a few words! I figured the guy must be a genius.

And one time, when Mom was sending me to my room for a nap, I tried to smuggle a contraband toy in there with me. As I walked past--suuuuuuper casually-- Mom said, “Nope. Put that toy away.”

“How did you KNOW?!”

“Because I’m a mom and I know things.”

Wow. It was getting creepy.

I remember asking Mom and Dad about pretty much everything. They knew what every word meant. They knew how everything worked. They knew about historical events and how the government worked and what things were made of and why we can’t breathe under water and how to get to space and how you SHOULDN’T try to get to space by making a cardboard-box-spaceship and lighting the bottom of it on fire! They knew it all.

But here’s the rub: they knew nothing about Ninja Turtles.

I know. It’s taken me years to admit it to anyone. 

They were completely ignorant on the subject. They couldn’t even NAME all four turtles! And if you tried to tell them the names, they thought you were talking about classical artists or something stupid like that!

And don’t even get me started on their Batman knowledge gaps! My mother still calls this guy “Half n’ Half.”

These lapses were embarrassing. But as I grew older, I started to realize that my parents weren’t uniquely disabled. It seemed that everyone had a father or mother (or both) who were very intelligent but incapable of understanding important things like comic books and cartoons. 

How does this happen? When did the epidemic begin? Can it be stopped?

Perhaps the most frightening moment of my life was when I realized that I, myself, was beginning to exhibit symptoms of this disorder. It happened when my son was discussing one of his favorite television shows, The Octonauts.

In the image above, do you see a little Penguin guy? That dude’s name is “Peso.” (Yes, like the Mexican currency.) Peso is a doctor. I doubt he's a surgeon because I don't see how that would work with flippers. But that's neither here nor there.

Well, the cat-pirate dude is NOT named Peso, he’s named Kwazii. He’s a pirate cat. (I don’t know what other information you’d need.) 

Anyway, I once called Kwazii by Peso’s name. My son gave me a look that oozed confusion and pity.

“Dad, that’s not Peso. It’s Kwazii.”

Pause.

“You were just joking.”

But that’s the thing. I wasn’t joking. Not even a little.

I have Parental Savant Syndrome. It's the ability to know a lot of things while being a complete dunce when it comes to cool kid topics.

My son asks me about everything, just like I used to ask my parents. We’ve discussed astronomy, theology, geography, zoology, history and politics. I’m usually able to answer his questions satisfactorily. And I like to think of myself as a “with it” kind of parent. I mean, we watch his shows together and we talk about what he likes to do with friends at school. We talk about his favorite characters, animals and athletes. I'm "with it," right? I know what's up! But you know what? I’ll bet MY parents thought they were “with it,” too!

So now I’ve started to notice little comments and corrections from my son.

“No, Dad. That one isn’t the Gup D, that’s the Gup V!” (Both are types of fictional submarines, by the way.)

“No, that’s not the dog’s name. Were you joking?”

“I’m not being a REAL gorilla, Dad! I’m one of those guys that uses a power suit to give him gorilla powers!” (Okay.)

It’s always hard to admit you have a problem. But I think admitting it is a good first step toward coping. 

My name is Matt and I have Parental Savant Syndrome.

There may not be a cure for PSS, but the symptoms can be managed with proper Google searching. Try typing "what are the names of all the Octonauts?" or "how did Kwazii lose his eye?" or "where does a penguin even go to medical school?"

I'm writing this blog post to raise awareness on the subject of Parental Savant Syndrome. Let's hope that when our children are grown, someone will have discovered the cure. Until then, just nod your head a lot and try to seem like you're down with whatever they're saying. What could go wrong?

Retention of Awesomeness

For me, one of the joys of parenting has been finding things that I loved as a kid that my son also loves today. Some things just work. And kids of multiple generations can agree that they're awesome.

Not everything is like this. There are many fads from my childhood that just don't cut it anymore. In fact, looking back on them, you have to wonder how they seemed like a good idea to any generation. Here are a few examples of fads that have gone the way of the Dodo.

Things that did Not Remain Awesome Were Never Awesome

                                                                 Pogs

This was a game that encouraged young children to hoard worthless pieces of cardboard. Neat.

                                                            Furbies

Do they still haunt your dreams?

                                                           Tickle Me Elmo

Um...

                                                           Dragon Ball Z

If you still like this show, please stop reading. I don't want to hold you up while you're getting ready for your hot date. Heh.

Yes, it was a dark time in many ways. Will Smith thought he was a rapper and "every man did what was right in his own eyes." Chaos reigned.

Awesomeness that Abides

Fortunately, some things were awesome in spite of the darkness of those days. Some things have been awesome forever and will continue to be awesome as long as the sun shines. In those things, my son and I can find common ground. Those things are...

Star Wars

You knew it had to be first. It will always be first. Honestly, I don't know who likes these movies more, me or my son. And I'm not talking about the newer films or the slew of cartoons that followed. The original, simple, awesome movies. I showed Episode IV to Jono and he was pretending to be a droid before Darth Vader even captured Princess Leia.

Speaking of Leia, I don't know who Lucas originally planned to cast in that role, but if that's her picture in this early artwork, he obviously changed his mind. Carrie Fisher never looked that cool. Also, Mark Hamill never had those abs.

Super Mario Brothers

When I was a kid, Mario looked like this:

Now he looks more like this:

But the basic awesomeness is the same. Jono and I could play Mario together for hours if left unattended. Please pray that we won't be unattended all that often.

Pretending the Floor is Lava

We all did this as kids, right? And kids are still doing it today.
The trick is to use the couch cushions as little islands.
Never forget that.

Poop Jokes

Deny it if you want, but these are still hilarious.

Fishing

This is fun for the whole family. (Bright red Crocs optional.)

Camping Indoors

Camping Outdoors

And last, but certainly not least...

Batman

Always! Forever! In every reincarnation, Batman is the coolest. Before there was Chuck Norris, there was The Batman. Seriously, Batman retains a level of coolness that cannot be destroyed no matter how many Ben Afflecks threaten to portray the character. Batman is unstoppable! In every animated and live-action manifestation, Batman oozes coolness. My son knows this. I know it. It's about time you people knew it, too.

Come to think of it, I'm going to wrap this post up with a Batman montage. You don't even have to thank me. Because, good people of Gotham, a hero doesn't ask to be thanked.

But still. You're welcome.

Geography Lesson

Throughout the school year, my son has been learning about different countries and their cultures. I think it's great. I've always loved learning about other places and people. It's been fun to see (a) what his teacher decides to tell the class, (2) which parts of that lesson Jono retains, and (D) how he describes it.

I usually try to entertain, but today’s blog post is purely educational. And so, here are a few things Jono would like you to know about the world at large.

[Bracketed comments are my own and are far less important.]

Peru

Peru is a country that has llamas. You have to be careful around llamas because they’re like camels and they spit.

[Jono failed to mention the vast, historic empire of the Incas and the majestic archaeological remains of their civilization, some of which can be found at Machu Picchu. Llama spit is important, too. I’m just saying.]

Mexico

In Mexico, people like to hit piñatas until candy comes out.

[Mexico also has a rich history and interesting culture. But sure.]

England

In England, the queen is named “Elizabeth.” They call cookies “biscuits.”

[This is completely accurate and I have nothing to add.]

Alaska

There’s lots of snow in Alaska. Eskimos live there and so do Moose.

[Some people are offended by the term “Eskimo.” But people can’t seem to agree on a politically-correct term that covers all the indigenous people in the region, so I’ll allow it.]

[Moose are great. I have some on my favorite pajama pants.] 

[I know Alaska isn't a country. I’m not sure if Jono does. We’ll work on that.]

Italy

Italy has something like the Eiffel Tower except it's round.

[I have no idea.]

The Netherlands

People who live there wear wooden shoes called “CLOMPERS!”

[The Netherlands is a conglomeration of various historical states with a complicated history full of political and geographical changes. They have hilarious shoes.]

If you enjoyed this lesson and would like to learn more about various cultures, please consider babysitting my kid some Saturday evening.

Debatable

My son is a really sweet kid. I just want to say that up front. He's usually nice and caring. He's always hilarious. But he gets on these bossy kicks where he'll argue everything you say and tell you that you're wrong and try to correct your every word.

It's... um... well, what's a nice word for "Poke-Me-In-The-Eyeball Infuriating?"¹ That's what it is.

It's not all the time. It comes in waves. And those waves cause me severe sea-sickness.

Let me give you just a little taste of this habit. This weekend, we did a lot of family stuff out and about. Throughout everything we did, Jono kept correcting me.

"Dad, that girl told a lie."

"No, I think she just made a mistake."

"No. Grandma said it. She was lying." (Disclaimer: Grandma may not have said this.)

We agreed to disagree on this one.

Then we went to lunch. My wife explained to Jono that he needed to eat all his food.

"I think I only have to eat a number of bites. How many bites do I have to eat?"

"All of it."

"How did you say that? I just eat a number of bites."

"No, all of it."

This time we did NOT agree to disagree. He ate his food. Well, actually, he only ate until the point where he said he felt like he might get sick. And it even seemed legit. We allowed him to forgo the last couple of bites to avoid public vomiting.

Yeah, we don't mess around. We force our kid to eat to the point of illness. We're good parents.

We went to a museum and a toy store and we had lots of fun. Jono was great most of the time but every now and then he would start to get bossy. We kept warning him that this behavior needed to stop. It would stop for a while but then start to creep back in.

On the drive home, Jono dropped one of his toys. He asked if we could get it for him. On this particular day, I had left the Batmobile in the garage and we were driving the minivan. So I wasn't able to use the auto-pilot feature. This meant (annoyingly) that I had to remain in the driver's seat the ENTIRE time I was driving. This (unfortunately) made it impossible to retrieve toys from the back seat.

"We'll have to get that toy when we get home, Jono."

"I was talking to Mom."

"Well, Mom's busy, too. We'll just have to get it at home."

"I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to Mom."

At this point, I lost my cool a bit.

"Jono, stop being so bossy! It doesn't matter who you were talking to. I'm answering! And you just have to wait! Do you see me driving this car? If I stop to help you, wouldn't we CRASH? You just need to be patient!"

The van got quiet; the peaceful silence of a grumpy father who shall not be pestered again. The silence... of a few brief moments.

"Hey... can you take this?"

A quick scan of the rear-view mirror showed that my son was trying to pass his drink up to the front seat where it fits nicely into our cup holder. I reached back and took the cup.

"... I wasn't talking to you."

Ok, remember how I said I lost my cool a bit? The thaw was complete at this point.

"What?! Seriously, Jono, it doesn't matter who you were talking to! Stop being so bossy!"

Silence.

And then...

"I just don't want to crash."

---

1 Grammarians generally agree that this word is "Belieber."^↩

Click It

As a parent, what words do you say to your children most often? Do you tell them "I love you?" Do you say "You make me proud?" What words fall from your lips so effortlessly that they become part of your child’s subconscious understanding of your relationship?

For me, those words are "buckle up."

I say it all the time. I probably say it in my sleep. "Buckle up, son."

Every time we get into the car, I tell my kid to buckle his seat belt. It happens every time. Because, you know, I don't want him to die. He gets the love in that, right? He knows it's a positive thing, doesn't he? Because we're going to be operating a large vehicle at high speeds and I want him to be safe. It's just good, solid parenting.

But here's the thing; WHY DO I HAVE TO TELL HIM TO BUCKLE UP? How does he not know that this is an expectation? It's not like we have designated Seat Belt Days throughout the month. We don't celebrate specific belted holidays. We don't even take a rest from seat belts on the Sabbath! WE ALWAYS WEAR SEAT BELTS! Because I ALWAYS DON'T WANT HIM TO DIE! And yet, every time we climb into the car, I look in my rear view mirror and see my child unrestrained in the back seat.

"Buckle up, Jono."

"Oh, yeah."

Oh, yeah. That's right. Knew I was forgetting something. Let's see, what did Dad just ask me to do? "Something-something, Jono," I think he said. Hey, look... there's that toy I left in the car last week. Oh, poop, Dad's talking again.

"What did you say, Dad?"

"I said 'buckle up.'"

"Oh, yeah... Why are you banging your head on the steering wheel like that, Dad?"

Once my wife got so frustrated with the ongoing struggle that she gave Jono the following instructions:

"Every time you climb into the car, get in your seat and buckle your seat belt. When we're walking out to the car and you SEE the car, start thinking about putting on your seat belt. Then get in the car... and put on your seat belt."

So far it's worked pretty well. He sees the car almost every time now.

I had a plan to get my CDL and buy a school bus. That way Jono could legally sit in the back seat without a seat belt. There's still a safety issue, but at least we'd be obeying the law. The real problem would be times when Jono wasn't with me. Then I'm just a strange, bearded man who drives around town in a school bus. That guy has a definite vibe and I don't want it. Maybe I could get a motorcycle with a sidecar?

This story has no ending. It's an ongoing battle. And don't expect any words of wisdom. I have none. 

In conclusion, here's an artist's rendition of me as a school bus driver: