Ah prank phone calls...a rite of passage that has somehow managed to elude my son. I picked him up tonight from his friends house and he was sharing with me some of what they had done this afternoon. He shared that they made a prank phone call, and I must admit that I was a little worried. I had visions of angry citizens waving their cordless phones as the police hooked my son up and escorted him to a waiting cruiser.
As it turns out, I've got nothing to worry about.
I will tell you the same way that I heard it...it just seems the right way to do it.
"Oh, then we made a prank call." (This is where I had visions of Red
Oak's finest, but thankfully I had the sense to keep quiet) "Michael was on the phone and we called the grocery store. We asked the guy if they had any sweet potatoes." (At this point I thought I might actually have the opportunity to learn a new prank, and quite honestly the little boy inside was smiling a little...alas, it was not to be, read on...)
"So then we asked how much they cost...Like $2.75 a pound. So then I whispered in Michael's ear to ask if they have star fruit. The guy says yeah, they were about 75 cents a piece."
"All this time Michael is talking in a phony Mexican accent. And he says 'Thanks, we'll be right there man!' And the guy was like, 'OK, see you then.' And then he hung up!"
And there my son stood grinning like he'd just put one by Solomon himself. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. On one hand I am thankful for his boyish naivety. On the other hand I am horrified at his comedic ignorance.
I gently explained the truth and timing of good old "Do you have Prince Albert in a can?" and "Is your refridgerator running?". It was encouraging to see the light come on and the grin appear as he realized the humor of the situation.
Always a teachable moment when it comes to parenting.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
My Name is Not Dad
I took my kids to the park tonight. Mom was hosting Bible study, so me and the kids spent the evening out. Dad's out there, let me ask you this: when you take your kids out without mom, do you get the feeling that everyone assumes that it's your night for custody of the kids...this is your weekly visitation? I hate that I feel that way, and I am not sure why I feel that way. I'll have to tuck that away for future therapy!
One more thing, while I'm on the subject of Dad's and kids. When you see me with my kids and my wife is not present, do not ask if it's my night to babysit. I am not the babysitter, I am their dad. I am fully capable; do not act so impressed, do not act alarmed, do not fear for the children's safety (mine, perhaps, but the children are fine), and stop thinking their mom ran off with the plumber!
Now back to the park. Three of the girls asked if I would push them on the swing. As we got to the swing set, Madison and Megan got swings next to each other, then a little boy took the next swing, and Sammy took the next. As I began to push, they started to call out for me to come and push their swing, "Push me Dad, push me!"
That's when the little boy in the middle started in. He was probably 3 or just 4. I hadn't paid much notice to him. It didn't bother me that he was in the midst of the girls, that's just what happens at play grounds. He was watching us pretty closely and then he started in too, "Push me Dad, push me!"
At first I just chuckled with the girls...they were pretty tickled that this little boy was calling me Dad. As I pushed him in his swing, I scanned the playground for his parents. I saw his mom with a guy that was obviously not this little boy's dad. (you just have to trust me on this one)
It was then that I realized that this little boy before me in the swing had called me Dad because he thought that was my name, not my title. I wasn't chuckling anymore.
I kept an eye on the little boy the rest of the time that we were at the park. Mom's new guy did not pay much attention to the boy. In fact, he seemed rather irritated that he was there at all.
The idea came to mind that the few moments that the little boy shared at the swing set with me and my girls, just may be the only "fatherly" attention that he will get this night...and quite probably many others.
As I called my kids to the van and we left the park for ice cream, I thanked God that he had given me a heart for kids...all kids, but especially my own. I cherish the time and influence that I have as a Dad. And I pray that God will continue to give me moments with strange little boys at the park. Moments at the swing set where we can understand each other ...maybe he'll understand that there are people out there who will smile and take a moment to push him on the swing, and maybe I'll understand all over again that God may use me in ways I never imagined.
One more thing, while I'm on the subject of Dad's and kids. When you see me with my kids and my wife is not present, do not ask if it's my night to babysit. I am not the babysitter, I am their dad. I am fully capable; do not act so impressed, do not act alarmed, do not fear for the children's safety (mine, perhaps, but the children are fine), and stop thinking their mom ran off with the plumber!
Now back to the park. Three of the girls asked if I would push them on the swing. As we got to the swing set, Madison and Megan got swings next to each other, then a little boy took the next swing, and Sammy took the next. As I began to push, they started to call out for me to come and push their swing, "Push me Dad, push me!"
That's when the little boy in the middle started in. He was probably 3 or just 4. I hadn't paid much notice to him. It didn't bother me that he was in the midst of the girls, that's just what happens at play grounds. He was watching us pretty closely and then he started in too, "Push me Dad, push me!"
At first I just chuckled with the girls...they were pretty tickled that this little boy was calling me Dad. As I pushed him in his swing, I scanned the playground for his parents. I saw his mom with a guy that was obviously not this little boy's dad. (you just have to trust me on this one)
It was then that I realized that this little boy before me in the swing had called me Dad because he thought that was my name, not my title. I wasn't chuckling anymore.
I kept an eye on the little boy the rest of the time that we were at the park. Mom's new guy did not pay much attention to the boy. In fact, he seemed rather irritated that he was there at all.
The idea came to mind that the few moments that the little boy shared at the swing set with me and my girls, just may be the only "fatherly" attention that he will get this night...and quite probably many others.
As I called my kids to the van and we left the park for ice cream, I thanked God that he had given me a heart for kids...all kids, but especially my own. I cherish the time and influence that I have as a Dad. And I pray that God will continue to give me moments with strange little boys at the park. Moments at the swing set where we can understand each other ...maybe he'll understand that there are people out there who will smile and take a moment to push him on the swing, and maybe I'll understand all over again that God may use me in ways I never imagined.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
