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Patience is a Virtue
One of the things that has been good about Joshua going to school this year is the special time I get to spend alone with Sophie. Since she was my second-born, I obviously didn’t get too much alone time with her when she was a baby. And she and I are loving our time together.
Last Friday I needed to go to Kroger, but wanted to give Sophie a fun outing before I imprisoned her in a shopping cart (although truthfully, if I can get one of those race car carts, she’s pretty happy!) so we went to Tim Horton’s for a donut. Since our last pre-Kroger T-Ho’s run had ended in me getting a verbal spanking from the super-conscious folks who make Clorox wipes, I decided to go into Tim Horton’s to dine this time.
I sat Sophie at a table near the counter and ordered our donuts. Then, I turned to give her a reassuring smile while I waited for our order to be brought to the counter.
“Have my donut?” said Sophie.
“It’s coming sweetie, we have to wait our turn.”
Sophie likes waiting about as much as she likes getting her hair brushed, so she responded with a loud, disgruntled FUSS.
“No fussing,” I admonished her. “Say, ‘I’ll have patience.'”
My blonde little angelic-looking daughter narrowed her eyes, opened her mouth and screamed in a voice that was straight from Hades:
“I’LL HAVE PATIENNNNNCCCCCCE!”
Her scream was SO loud, and SO – well, scary – that the guy in line in front of me jumped about a foot in the air. When he turned to see the source of the fury, he cracked up laughing.
And so did I. Instead of scolding Sophie, I just dissolved into laughter. Hey, I told her to say “I’ll have patience” and she said the heck out of it. In a really distinct “Sophie” way.
Just then our donuts came up, and we dug in to some chocolate, sugary, donutty goodness. And Sophie didn’t even fuss when she asked for another one and I said “no”. So it wasn’t a total fail in the parenting column, right?
For Every Action
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Friday afternoon I took my kids to the play place at a local mall. They had a great time, running off some energy and playing with other kids. But about 30 minutes into our visit, I noticed a little boy playing there, who looked to be about four years old, was wearing a t-shirt that said, in large letters, “No, YOU F***ing Calm Down!” Except it said the actual word, with no lovely asterisks, but with a real u-c-k.
Seriously.
I am guessing that by dressing their child this way, his parents, (who looked like BonQuiQui Barbie and Tupac Ken) were hoping to get a reaction of some sort out of someone. Fortunately, I am not dumb enough to confront two tough-looking strangers at the mall play place, so I kept my reaction silent.
Until now. An open letter.
Dear Parents of the Boy with the “F” Word T-shirt at the Mall Play Place,
What is WRONG with you? Perhaps it is a point of pride with you that your four-year-old’s lexicon (look it up) includes the “F” word, and that his clothing gave the proverbial middle finger to everyone who laid eyes on him. I don’t know. But it made me want to vomit. And I am so, so thankful that my six-year-old, who can read (bigger words than that even, try not to feel intimidated) didn’t see L’il Expletive (again, look it up) rockin’ the F-bomb shirt. Because, really, “Mommy, what does f***ing mean?” is not what I want to hear out of MY child’s mouth.
You made me really mad by bringing your son to the mall with that shirt on. But I got over being mad, and was just thankful that my son was oblivious. Then after FLEEING the play place (thanks for that), I just felt really, really sad. Sad for your son, because I am guessing if that’s what you clothe him with, that you’ve instilled an “f-you” attitude in him as well. Perhaps he thinks already, at his young age, that the world owes him something (everything?). I gotta tell you, this isn’t going to serve him well. Not in kindergarten, not in school, work, family relationships, friendships – not anywhere. You’re setting your son up for failure. And he deserves more than that. He’s a child. Don’t give him the adult responsibilities that come with wearing that word on his chest.
And also? Pick another play place.
And also? Don’t cut me.
Love,
Jenny