Ambesol Blues

As parents, we're magical. Capable of anything, with endless money, and the ability to make anything bad go away. At least to our kids we are. This weekend has come with multiple "emergencies". I put "emergencies" in quotes (twice now) because to the ego-centric mind of a 6 or 7 year old, they are treated like the end of the world. In reality, they are life. Ambesol was the source of one of these emergencies. Sometimes dealing with the pain of a canker soar is better than that weird feeling even a tiny drop of Ambesol gives you. Well Kate (6) won't stop complaining about this pain in her mouth and Mommy offers this magical cure that will numb the pain. Upon application, it does its work, but feels weird and, frankly, not too pleasant. I know this from experience already - that's why I just suck it up and deal with the pain when it's my mouth in question. Well, she flipped out. We told her that the only thing she could do was get some juice or some water to get the taste out of her mouth. As all parents know, kids don't get definitives like "only" as in "the only thing we can do". She wants more - she wants us to magically make the weird feeling to go away. It takes about 5 full minutes of crying and pleading before she'll listen to us. She learned three things from this: (a) listen to Mom and Dad - the water helped a little, (b) Ambesol is not an option going forward and (c) Mom and Dad may not be as magical as she once believed. She'll learn this more and more as the years go by.

The second of these hard knocks was learning about the rules of "betting". Don't get me wrong ... we weren't betting on the ponies at the track. We were watching the Wizard of Oz and Nic (7) insists that the place where Dorothy's house initially lands is called "Oz". First time to see the movie and his vastly more experienced mind tells him that it is Oz, no matter what Daddy (who's seen the movie at least 700 times in his life) says. So we bet ... 25 cents. And that is BIG. 25 cents buys a gum ball at Dos Salsas if he eats his whole meal (or most of it). Adn gum balls are gold. Of course, it's Munchkinland. They inevitably follow the yellow brick road to Oz, but they begin in Munchkinland. Side note: I know what you're thinking, but just because I know this much about the Wizard of Oz does not make me light in the loafers. However I am pretty good at interior decoration, don't watch sports, and dress pretty spiffy. Still - no. Back to the story. So, when I tell Nic that he owes ME a quarter, he loses it. Noooooooooooooo! I explain that this is the point of a bet. We both offer something we don't want to lose because we both think we're right. When one is wrong, he ponies up. This did not go over well. So, a learning experience is at hand. I can be nice and say, "you don't owe me anything" which would, in fact, teach him something ... that he just needs to cry to get out of his obligations. I can force him to go get his piggy bank and grab a quarter out of his whopping $1.86 in life savings. That would be the true learning experience - that you must take responsibility for your actions. It would also teach him to dislike his father for a few hours. So, we compromised. I told him that he owed the 25 cents, but in labor. He got me whatever I wanted for the rest of the night (e.g. a beer, popcorn, and two waters). Debt paid.

It's fun to watch them learning, even when the learning is painful. And to think that I have the power to mold these little minds into whatever I think they should be - it's cool, daunting, and humbling all at once.

I forecast three ethical, responsible, and kind smart asses.