This is an update on the post: Digging Up Dead Monkeys
Do yourself a favor and read that one first if you have not read it yet. It will all make much more sense this way. Otherwise, read on.
Update: 8/26/07
Yeah, so a few days ago I am doing some household chores when, totally out of the blue (and weeks later), Harris walks up to me and says,
"Dad, it's a really good thing that you didn't dig up your dead monkeys for Dylan."
I stood dumbfounded for a moment and then managed to mumble something that sounded vaguely reassuring. Although, I am not sure that is what Harris wanted as he walked away almost as quickly as he arrived. It was as if he was reassuring me that I made a wise parental decision by not digging up some monkeys that have been buried in the ground for 20 plus years.
Still it totally caught me off guard. I had forgotten all about that little episode. Clearly, Harris had not. Somewhere in between watching the latest episode of Sponge Bob Square Pants and hounding me for a snack, it all came rushing back to him. So much so, that he felt he had to remind me that not letting small children play with the bones of dead monkeys is a good thing.
It makes me wonder just how the brain of a small child works. On the other hand, it also makes me a little worried that perhaps Harris is questioning my parental abilities altogether. I have a sneaky suspicion that this will not be our last conversation about this topic. I am also willing to bet, somewhere down the long road, a therapist will be hearing about how I was going to dig up dead animals for my kids to play with. Yikes!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Monday, August 06, 2007
A boy and his broom
Henson loves brooms. He is 2. He has had a love for brooms for at least half his life. He is obsessed with brooms. I have watched him in restaurants become captivated by the sight of the waiter or waitress sweeping the floor around us. At home, if you bring out the broom to sweep you better not put it down or walk away from it. As soon as you do, Henson will claim it as his. Don't even bother to try and take it from him or you will have to endure him yelling at you; "Mine!" No one else is allowed to touch it or even look at it if he has the broom in his hand.
Thankfully, Henson also enjoys sweeping. He will often wander around the house with broom in hand. Although one is wise to give him a wide berth because a 2 year old wielding a full size broom can be dangerous.
For that reason, we decided we wanted to get him his own broom for his second birthday. There is only a small window of time when you can present a child with a gift like this and have them appreciate it, so we knew we had to act fast. Maggie did the shopping, and surprisingly, toddler size brooms are very hard to find. Now, I don't know if there was some sort of shortage, but Maggie wasn't able to find one at all. Perhaps brooms are the overwhelming choice of gift for those 4 and under? We had no idea. We thought for sure "the dollar store" would have some but they did not. So Maggie finally just bought an "adult sized" broom.
On his birthday, with hacksaw in hand, I sneaked out to the front porch and cut it down to his size. When we gave him his presents, the broom was a huge hit. He quickly went to work sweeping the floor. He carried it around for most of the evening and we actually thought he was going to take it to bed with him.
Recently, I left out the Swiffer floor mop and Henson quickly found it and claimed it as his. For his 3rd birthday we are thinking about getting him a janitors cart. We know this phase won't last long (as a couple of Henson's siblings appear to have a fear of brooms and mops) so we figured we might as well encourage it while we can!
Thankfully, Henson also enjoys sweeping. He will often wander around the house with broom in hand. Although one is wise to give him a wide berth because a 2 year old wielding a full size broom can be dangerous.
For that reason, we decided we wanted to get him his own broom for his second birthday. There is only a small window of time when you can present a child with a gift like this and have them appreciate it, so we knew we had to act fast. Maggie did the shopping, and surprisingly, toddler size brooms are very hard to find. Now, I don't know if there was some sort of shortage, but Maggie wasn't able to find one at all. Perhaps brooms are the overwhelming choice of gift for those 4 and under? We had no idea. We thought for sure "the dollar store" would have some but they did not. So Maggie finally just bought an "adult sized" broom.
On his birthday, with hacksaw in hand, I sneaked out to the front porch and cut it down to his size. When we gave him his presents, the broom was a huge hit. He quickly went to work sweeping the floor. He carried it around for most of the evening and we actually thought he was going to take it to bed with him.
Recently, I left out the Swiffer floor mop and Henson quickly found it and claimed it as his. For his 3rd birthday we are thinking about getting him a janitors cart. We know this phase won't last long (as a couple of Henson's siblings appear to have a fear of brooms and mops) so we figured we might as well encourage it while we can!
Digging Up Dead Monkeys
Recently, I took some of the kids (three of the boys and their sister) to First Friday. On the first Friday of each month the art galleries open their doors and people go gallery hopping. Refreshments are served and it's a great big social gathering. There is usually music, sometimes a fire, and always a drum circle. Last night it was very hot and humid so we didn't hang around very long.
On the walk back to the car, Harper (the 6 year old) asked if he could get a pet gerbil when he is older. I asked what he considered "older" and was relieved to hear him reply, "I don't know, 12 or 13?" Now while that is quite a few years away, I decided to remain non-committal due to some past issues with "the boy gerbil" we bought giving birth shortly after we brought him home. I was hoping we were done with "pet talk" and tried to change the subject but then the eight year old, Dylan, asked if he could get a pet monkey.
Before I had the chance to squash his dreams, Devin, his big sister, jumped in and saved me. In a quick and very matter of fact tone, she informed him that:
1. You can't just get a pet monkey (you need a license or something)
2. There was nowhere to buy monkeys around here
3. They don't even make good pets!
I was impressed and pleased with how quickly she set him straight. At least I wouldn't have to disappoint him! My relief quickly faded when, for some unknown reason, she proceeded to remind the boys about the two pet monkeys I had as a kid.
Way to make your point kid! Thanks for nothing!
Needless to say, this "reminder" set off a bunch of new questions. It doesn't matter how many times the story is told, the kids always seemed surprised that I had two pet monkeys. Of course, they love to hear all about them. After answering several questions and reminding them of the monkey's names, Dylan said "Cool, can I have your monkey's?" Without missing a beat (and clearly not thinking about what I was saying) I said "Sure, I'll just fly back to New York, dig them up, and you can play with their bones."
Yeah, Yeah, I know that is not an appropriate parental response but what can I say? Let's just blame it on the humidity.
Well, after realizing my offhand remark could invite a bunch of other questions, and possibly concerns, I quickly backpedaled like the best of politicians. I went on to explain that the monkeys died many, many, years ago and that they were long gone. I felt satisfied that I had taken the appropriate steps to distance myself from my hastily made remarks and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.
On the way home we stopped for ice cream. The kids picked out their flavors and toppings and happily chatted while eating. Everything seemed fine. And then, as we were driving home (and some 40 minutes after the initial conversation), Harris (the 4 year old) speaks up.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Harris?"
"You shouldn't dig up your dead pet monkey's because that would be scary!"
I'm not even sure what my response was. I think I was speechless and then quickly felt ashamed that I had worried Harris needlessly. There really wasn't much more I could say or do, so I simply reassured him that I would not be digging up my dead monkeys for Dylan to play with.
Once again, I have been reminded that little people take things very literally. You would think after having so many kids, I'd have learned this valuable lesson by now. Apparently I am a slow learner. So take my advice and please don't joke around about digging up your dead childhood pets. Someone might just take you seriously.
-Scott
Update on this post can be read here: Dead Monkeys, Part 2
On the walk back to the car, Harper (the 6 year old) asked if he could get a pet gerbil when he is older. I asked what he considered "older" and was relieved to hear him reply, "I don't know, 12 or 13?" Now while that is quite a few years away, I decided to remain non-committal due to some past issues with "the boy gerbil" we bought giving birth shortly after we brought him home. I was hoping we were done with "pet talk" and tried to change the subject but then the eight year old, Dylan, asked if he could get a pet monkey.
Before I had the chance to squash his dreams, Devin, his big sister, jumped in and saved me. In a quick and very matter of fact tone, she informed him that:
1. You can't just get a pet monkey (you need a license or something)
2. There was nowhere to buy monkeys around here
3. They don't even make good pets!
I was impressed and pleased with how quickly she set him straight. At least I wouldn't have to disappoint him! My relief quickly faded when, for some unknown reason, she proceeded to remind the boys about the two pet monkeys I had as a kid.
Way to make your point kid! Thanks for nothing!
Needless to say, this "reminder" set off a bunch of new questions. It doesn't matter how many times the story is told, the kids always seemed surprised that I had two pet monkeys. Of course, they love to hear all about them. After answering several questions and reminding them of the monkey's names, Dylan said "Cool, can I have your monkey's?" Without missing a beat (and clearly not thinking about what I was saying) I said "Sure, I'll just fly back to New York, dig them up, and you can play with their bones."
Yeah, Yeah, I know that is not an appropriate parental response but what can I say? Let's just blame it on the humidity.
Well, after realizing my offhand remark could invite a bunch of other questions, and possibly concerns, I quickly backpedaled like the best of politicians. I went on to explain that the monkeys died many, many, years ago and that they were long gone. I felt satisfied that I had taken the appropriate steps to distance myself from my hastily made remarks and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.
On the way home we stopped for ice cream. The kids picked out their flavors and toppings and happily chatted while eating. Everything seemed fine. And then, as we were driving home (and some 40 minutes after the initial conversation), Harris (the 4 year old) speaks up.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Harris?"
"You shouldn't dig up your dead pet monkey's because that would be scary!"
I'm not even sure what my response was. I think I was speechless and then quickly felt ashamed that I had worried Harris needlessly. There really wasn't much more I could say or do, so I simply reassured him that I would not be digging up my dead monkeys for Dylan to play with.
Once again, I have been reminded that little people take things very literally. You would think after having so many kids, I'd have learned this valuable lesson by now. Apparently I am a slow learner. So take my advice and please don't joke around about digging up your dead childhood pets. Someone might just take you seriously.
-Scott
Update on this post can be read here: Dead Monkeys, Part 2
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