As I reached for the shower curtain and a towel to dry myself off this morning, there you were with Mommy, waiting for me to realize I had visitors. You had a sneaky look on your face.
“Hi Jill!” you proudly greeted me.
Right name, wrong parent.
We felt you were old enough to know that Mommy and Daddy have other names, or as we call them: first names.
The problem is, you think my name is Jill and that Mommy’s name is Nick.
That’s okay. You’ll get it eventually. I don’t think it’s a bad idea for you to know our first names.
What if you get lost in a store? How will you tell someone who your parents are? We figured it wouldn’t hurt to teach you our “real names” for such an unfortunate event.
Until now, I had never thought about what age is appropriate to teach you our names other than Mommy and Daddy. For all I know, maybe it’s too soon.
I wondered at first if this was a recipe for disaster since you might start mainly calling us by our first names. However, I don’t think that will be a problem. You laugh every time you say our first names; as if they are our “funny names.”
As for the next name I shall teach you, what about our last name? Shouldn’t you know that too if you get separated from us somewhere in public? Fortunately for you, it’s an easy one: Shell.
One syllable names like Jack, Jill, Nick, and Shell definitely serve as an advantage to you, as a 2 year-old. You just happened to be born into a family with easy-to-say and easy-to-spell names.
As for your Croatian and Norwegian ancestors on Mommy’s side of the family, they probably had a more difficult time with this.
Just imagine, at best your name would have been something like… Ivan Ljùštura.
Since The Lorax appeared on Netflix Instant last month, our family has watched it enough times that you now request Mommy and I to sing the Thneedville song as your nightly lullaby.
Needless to say, it is currently our family’s favorite movie!
Granted, The Lorax movie is based on the 1971 Dr. Seuss book.
You should note that when talking about a movie based on a book, the cliche response you’re supposed to give is, “The book was so much better than the movie!”
To be honest, I’m a visual person, so I pretty much always prefer the movie over the book.
Unsurprisingly, I prefer the 2012 movie version of The Lorax over the 1971 book version it is based on. However, my reason isn’t simply because of the impressive 3-D animation. A lot of it is just that I prefer comedy over tragedy…
I had an art professor in college who explained the difference between tragedy and comedy this way:
In a tragedy, the beloved main character is removed or rejected from his society. In a comedy, an outcast is accepted by his society and becomes the beloved main character.
By that definition, the book version of The Lorax by Dr. Seuss is a tragedy.
The story ends with the Lorax literally kicking himself out of the city, after the Once-ler and his family cut down all the Truffula trees and all the sick and dying animals are forced to migrate elsewhere.
But in the movie version, the Lorax returns because the Once-ler shares the last Truffula seed with a boy named Ted, who decides to plant it in the middle of the city. Therefore, the movie is a comedy.
If the exact story line of the book version were simply stretched out into a 90 minute format, that would be one dark and depressing kids’ movie.
So instead, the movie version of The Lorax basically serves as the sequel to the book, with the original story line intertwined as a sort of dual plot.
The movie begins a couple of generations after where the book leaves off, with this hilarious over-the-top musical intro; which again, is the lullaby you request each night:
It’s interesting to me that the people of Thneedville are very happy to live in their plastic version of reality, where there are no living trees or plants. The city is essentially owned by a zillionaire named Aloysius O’Hare, who sells them fresh air; which they seem to be grateful for.
Whereas the book was a warning against the depletion of natural resources and the pollution of our environment, the movie focuses more on the bizarre aftermath, which is consumerism based on convenience over what is natural and healthy.
Though it’s probably easily overlooked, I think this is one of the most interesting and subtle lines of theThneedville song:
“We thank the Lord for all we’ve got, including this brand-new parking lot!”
The people of Thneedville are dependent on resources which are manufactured and processed, while they seem oblivious to and far-removed from the natural resources that God provided for them in the first place… which are actually located outside of their city, like plants that produce fresh air.
That’s not to say parking lots are evil, but the movie is clearly a parable of modern day America; especially in regards to not questioning where our products come from.
To think, there are now clever mainstream food brands likeChobani and Annie’s Homegrown which are making it clear to the consumer on their labeling that their products contain only natural ingredients; no artificial colors or flavors derived from animal bi-products or petroleum.Little Remedies is the same way with their children’s medicine.
It’s a mix between sad and funny that it’s so normal for me to expect products to be fake now, unless otherwise labeled so.
I feel that ultimately, The Lorax movie challenges viewers to decide for themselves if and how they are being represented as residents of Thneedville.
The movie is not simply about “going green” or saving trees. Its message is focused on returning to a version of life that is based on what is real, natural, and non-toxic.
Thneedville’s citizens had to decide whether to allow the last Truffula seed to be planted or to keep depending on having to buy fresh air.
Turns out, that’s a decision we have to make for ourselves everyday, in some form or another.
I have no idea who the man in this picture is, but according to some friends on Facebook, he could evidently be me in some alternative version of reality in 1984.
Therefore, the floating butterfly lady is, by default, Mommy.
So I got to thinking: This is probably the best illustration of how you see Mommy and me.
I am the Wizard of Weird and Mommy is the Fairy of Finesse.
Together, the two of us make one magical team. (Evidently, my magic is so cool I can make Mommy fly.)
Even if her ability to fly has something to do with the 1984 version of Photoshop, at least someone went through the trouble of adding in a believable shadow on my arm.
A couple of days ago I mentioned how You Can’t Choose Your Parents; that ” whether it’s for better or for worse, I take pride in showing you my version of how the world works and/or how it should work.”
Well, Son, you basically have Mork and Mindy for parents. That is your reality.
I imagine that to you, as a 2 year-old, everything is laced in fantasy. It will be a while before you can truly start discerning between what is real and what is pretend.
Can trains really talk the way Thomas and his friends can? When we pass the same construction site every morning, is that really Cranky the Crane, as I seem to imply?
Do you wake up every morning to parents who basically put on a magic show for you? Is that what it feels like to be 2 years old?
I think so.
As for the actual man and woman in the picture, I hope they see this and leave a comment. Or if nothing else, maybe someone else knows who this magical couple is so I can give credit where credit is due.
Until then, I will have you believe this is Mommy and me.
Love,
Daddy
Update: Thanks to a reader named Lance, I learned that the magician in the picture is Doug Henning. Lance, thanks for introducing me to him!
While I am definitely more mindful these days of trying to avoid the use of bravado in my letters to you, I must admit, my ego took a bit of a hit when I recently had to start riding in the backseat with you.
Something always seemed awkward, if nothing else, about seeing a wife drive the car while the husband was in the front passenger seat.
Well, at least it’s not that bad. The new normal is that Mommy drives and I accompany you in the backseat.
I have relinquished my role as the family chauffeur; a role that I feel is supposed to be mine, as the dad and husband.
But, as I had hoped when I implemented this plan, you are a lot less anxious, needy, whiny, and hungry now that it’s me sitting next to you in the back seat.
You see Mommy as the nurturer, which she is.
However, with me, you just want to chill out. Either you contemplate your life, deep in thought, as pictured right; or you like to be goofy with me as we sing the few lines we know of the songs from The Lorax movie:
“How ba-a-a-ad can I be?”
I’m curious to see how our new driving method will work on our next road trip.
We drove two and a half hours to Alabama last month, but it felt more like five. There was nothing Mommy could do back there to make you happy. Plus, you needed a nap, but that never happened.
Since I’m not the nurturer of the family, I wonder if it will be easier for you to fall asleep in the car if it’s me back there with you next time.
It’s just that your expectations are so much different (and lower?) for me as your seatmate, as opposed to Mommy.
You treat us differently. You are much more low-maintenance with me; you always have been.
Like I’ve mentioned last July in “The Hunger Games: Toddler Edition,” you are not as hungry and you ask for food less with I’m the parent caring for you. You can go for hours without thinking about food if it’s just you and me.
But with Mommy, you’ll eat two meals in a row.
So for now, I’ll be your backseat buddy. I shall entertain you, make you lose your appetite, and bore you to sleep.
Last Saturday morning when it snowed here in Nashville, I snapped a few quick pictures of you discovering the glory of it through the window.
However, those pictures of you didn’t quite turn out as I had hoped.
Instead, they could easily be filed under the categories of “safety hazard” or “a mess to be made.”
Without an explanation, the picture to the right looks like I just let you regularly pretend to strangle yourself with the strings from the window blinds.
In reality, the exact second this picture was shot was the only time you’ve ever put the strings from the window blinds close to your neck.
The main reason you I’ve never let you play with the window blinds is explained in the picture below.
Not only do I not want you to hurt yourself, but I don’t want you to learn that it’s okay to play with something that could easily turn into a big mess, or more importantly, something that could break and be so expensive to fix.
(Those blinds throughout our townhouse costed us a total of $500 for the 3 windows we have, by the time they were installed.)
Trust me, I don’t want to be a stick in the mud parent who is telling you “no” anytime you try to do something new.
I want you to be curious and adventurous. You are a little boy. You’re basically wired to discover fun new things on a regular basis.
But as your dad, I have to constantly be asking myself, “Is this a safety hazard?” and “Will this make a big expensive mess that I’ll have to clean up and pay for?”
Speaking of snow, it reminds me of when I was a kid in school and the Superintendent would have to make the call very early that morning on whether or not school would be cancelled because of snowy or icy weather.
If he cancelled school, and the weather ended up not being as bad as everyone thought it would be, then it could make it look like he jumped the gun and overreacted.
But if he didn’t cancel school, and the weather really was as bad as everyone thought it might be, then he could be seen as unwise and not concerned enough with the safety of the children.
I feel like the Superintendent. You give me enough reasons each day to have continually ask myself whether I should approve or cancel whatever potential hazard or mess you are about to get yourself into.
