You Can Catch More Flies with Bunnies

When do little children learn to manipulate their parents? At what stage do girls figure out that their fathers will do anything for a hug and a kiss? How do boys perfect that "aw shucks" smile that melts their mothers? I like to imagine a secret school where children learn the arts of persuasion and method acting. While we think they're outside playing with their friends, they workshop with each other, testing the looks and gestures that win over adults. They role play scenarios and prepare speeches to try on their folks later, critiquing each other as they go.



"Please Dad Please"

 So my daughter was invited out to the movies after school by her little friend, and since she knows that my first answer is always 'no,' they cooked up a plan to change my mind even before they asked. Between the two of them, they made an invitation, figuring I would respond better to some official paperwork. It was a hand-written invitation, including all of the essential information, but the kicker was the special note inside. It's shaped like a bunny's head, with her friend's phone number on one ear, and her friend's mother's number on the other. It has a desperate, but trustworthy, bunny face, begging me to let them go. The back of the bunny's head has an even more interesting appeal, which you can see below.

I didn't know she knew that song.

And the worst thing is that it worked! Against my better judgment, I let her go. Even on a school night, I let her go. Despite the fact that it caused her to miss dance class, I let her go. Once I saw the note and their two smiling, pleading faces, there wasn't even much of a decision to make, I had said 'yes' before I was even aware of it.

Now I'm worried. Where does it end? How can I resist this power in the future? I must find a way to build up resistance against this Jedi Mind Trick from the Younglings, before I'm helplessly handing over car keys or credit cards in a few years.

Monday Morning Haiku

I baked blueberry
Muffins for breakfast but we
Ate them all last night.

Field Trip Bonus

Another interesting thing that happened at the field trip was when my daughter and her friends approached the enclosure for the Lowland Nyala. She somehow had put herself in charge of dispensing information, so the other kids asked her what kind of animal it was. She runs over to the sign and shouts, "it's a Lowlife Nyala."



The infamous Lowland Nyala.


"I think I dated her once or twice," I responded.

Images flooded my mind of this deer-like animal just laying around all day, smoking pot and hollering at girls as they pass, lying to its probation officer and failing to pay child support for its four foals.

Monday Morning Haiku

Year-end testing means
I have two more free hours.
Why not come later?

Always Feed the Giraffes

Today I had the wonderful experience of chaperoning my fourth grade daughter's class trip to the Miami Zoo. Just a few years ago, when my poor, forsaken son (the one who had the terrible, inexperienced father) was in elementary school, I never did go to a single field trip. I told myself I couldn't possibly take a day off, that things would fall apart without me, that it wasn't even like a family trip anyway. It didn't matter how fun the trip promised to be, and, in my defense, they weren't all fun anyway - planetarium, I'm looking at you. However, it wasn't really supposed to be about the fun, but about the meaningful sacrifice of time to do something your kids want to do for a change.

So I made it a policy a couple of years ago to go on at least two of my daughter's field trips every year. Today's trip was to the zoo, which is not only something we both really like, but also something we hadn't done for a couple of years, and also something really far that I don't want to have to drive all the way to visit. So winner all the way around. I led a group of five fourth graders, including my daughter, into the wilds of Africa and the heated forests of the Amazon, confronting animals so dangerous and cunning that nothing short of a steel cage or a tremendous concrete chasm could keep them from leaping upon us and feasting on our warm flesh. We had a great time, too short even, since there was a whole lot more we wanted to do when it was time for us to meet up at the bus.



Feed me!

 
The highlight of the trip was definitely feeding the giraffes. This was a surprise to me, since the zoo had added the attraction since our last visit. Basically, there's a deck about fifteen feet high that juts out over the giraffe enclosure, with a vendor taking two dollars for bunches of leaves that grow for free, sometimes too much, in my backyard. The giraffes stick their huge heads over the rail of the deck and you hold out the leaves for them to take with their ten-inch, snake-like, prehensile tongues. It's a mixture of creepy and awesome that should appeal to most kids. My daughter was the only one who didn't want to do it, but after I bought leaves for everyone, the ferver and peer pressure kicked in and she was begging to get in there to feed them. Once again, winner.

So, if you've never done it, I whole-heartedly recommend that you chaperone a field trip. It's not as much work as you might think, makes your kid happy, and (assuming the people planning the trip are cool) won't cost you anything but a personal day at work. And you know you still have at least three of your days left. If that isn't convincing enough, I'll close with ten reasons to chaperone your child's next field trip.

1) You will be a hero to your kid's class. They love parents who chaperone. Spend five or ten bucks to buy them all food for the birds or fish or giraffes and your street cred doubles.

2) You can get to know your child's teacher in a more pleasant situation, one where nobody is in trouble.

3) Field trips are fun. That's why we do them. Some of them are less fun, like those trips during which you find yourself in a dark room shaped like the cupola of a cathedral, looking at fake stars while listening to a half-hour of astronomical jargon that you'll never remember when you're looking for real stars you'll never find because there's no red pointy arrow in the real world.

4) Volunteering for class projects and field trips helps to get you into a position of influence in your child's education. If you were a teacher, whose input would you take more seriously? The class complainer who ruins some of your best days? Or the helpful volunteer who makes your job easier?

5) You will get to know your kid's friends. That way, you will be able to put a face to a name when you hear about all the horrible things they do to your child during school.

6) You can meet the parents of your child's friends. Network, set play dates, share resources, raise funds. Do all of those cooperative things that make your life easier. Discreetly hand out a couple of business cards if you still feel guilty for ditching work.

7) You'll be away from work for a day. Let's face it, we have personal days for a reason - the protection of our sanity. A refreshing change of pace will make your workdays more tolerable, and the quality time with your kids will make your home life more intimate.



Sexy giraffe winks at you.


8) Very often, the field trip will take you someplace you always wanted to take your child anyway, but somehow never got around to.

9) In going to that place you've been meaning to take your child, you'll find that you get in for free, and your child gets in for the group rate. Ka-ching!

10) You can call in markers with your kids for chaperoning the trip. Act all reluctant, and then tell them you'll chaperone if they keep their room clean for a week.




 

Monday Morning Haiku

Daylight Savings Time,
Messing with my sleep. Only
God should change the clocks.

The Reluctant Prayer

Did you ever have the distinct impression that God wanted you to pray for something or someone that you didn't want to pray for? Maybe it's someone that you really don't like, but you happen to find out that they're in a particularly bad way, and you sense that clear burden to pray for them. Or maybe it's that an opportunity to do something presents itself, something that you really don't want to do, but get the feeling that God has planned that exact thing for your next move. This is the position in which I find myself.

It's a real conundrum. Consider the first situation. If you have someone you intensely dislike or maybe even harbor some righteous anger toward, and yet find out that they need help or guidance, what are your options? As a Christian, I'm commanded to pray for my enemies, so my choices are basically three. For one, I can choose to be utterly and obviously wrong, of course. The other choices are to either pray for the welfare and betterment of this person whom I consider to be an enemy, or to quit thinking of them as an enemy and start calling them, what, friend?

On the other hand, let's assume that I do pray for this enemy, or pray for this opportunity that God knows I don't want but pray for out of a desire to submit to his will. Isn't that just an empty prayer? That is to say, if I'm praying for something I don't really want either way, is that somehow pleasing to God in its obedience? Or is it displeasing in it's superficiality?

I'll let you know when I work it all out.

Monday Morning Haiku

The sun streams through my
windows, gently waking me.
Ah, teacher workdays.

Pressure Cooker Kids

There seems to be a law of balance at work in the minds of kids after divorce. They seem to want things to be equal on both sides, no matter what the issue is. If one parent gets a house, they want the other to get a house. If one gets a dog, the other has to get a dog. I'm not sure why this is, but I think it has something to do with a general concern for both parents that causes them fear that one will be left behind. Or maybe they just like to make the most uncomfortable comments at the worst possible times. It just might be that, too.

So in my case it happens to be a pretty big issue, in that their mother is getting married very soon. This makes my daughter very concerned for my own love life. I'm pretty sure she speaks for her brother, but I don't know how often they talk about it. All I know is that on a regular basis, I get grilled with the most personal questions. When are you getting married? (Almost all questions have the emphasis on you.) Who are you going to marry? What are you doing about getting married? Why aren't you getting married now? These questions are sometimes accompanied by the more unintentionally abusive questions. Why don't you have a girlfriend? Do you need any help? Have you tried online dating? Did you know my teacher is single?

I'm having a hard time convincing her that I'm not in a rush to get married or get involved with someone. She doesn't seem to accept the fact that I'm working on the matter in ways that she won't see or know about until the right time comes, or that I'm actually enjoying dating right now, for the first time in fifteen years, and maybe for the first time in my life. I'm not even sure that she believes that I go on dates when she's not around. Somehow she's got it in her head that this is the kind of thing that happens overnight, perhaps because every Parent Trappish Disney/Nickelodeon movie always builds up to the moment the man and woman lock eyes or kiss, and then cuts to the wedding scene with the precocious little star as the flower girl. I think what I'll do is bring some strange woman home with some suitcases and tell them, "Meet your new step-mom!"

Yeah, that'll show her.