parenting

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It’s Time to Retire the Cliché “You Can Have ‘Em if You Want ‘Em” When a Stranger Compliments a Child in Front of Their Parent

It’s Time to Retire the Cliché “You Can Have ‘Em if You Want ‘Em” When a Stranger Compliments a Child in Front of Their Parent

It’s always bothered me.

To be out somewhere like the grocery store or a restaurant and see a stranger compliment a child in front of their parent:

“Oh, look at what a well-behaved little boy you got there.”

Or…

“I see a pretty little girl with her mommy. She’s just precious, isn’t she?”

Then the understandably exhausted parent jokingly responds with, “Well, you can have (him/her) if you want. You want to take them home with you?”

Of course, it’s all said in jest. And I totally personally relate to what it means to feel ready for a break, as a parent.

But.

I simply think it’s in poor taste for a person to joke about giving their child away. Especially when the child is right there.

Though I personally have had no issues with fertility, I personally know people who do. We all do.

And it’s not a joke to them.

The right thing to do when a stranger compliments someone’s child in front of them is for the parent to immediately express acknowledgement and appreciation of having such a good child. After all, a stranger made the effort to give the child (and by default, the parent) a compliment.

Not only does it show the stranger that the exhausted parent knows how to take a compliment on their parenting skills, but it reinforces the parent’s love to their child; in front of them, among adults. Because the child needs to hear it. They need that positive verbal assurance.

I think one of my biggest psychological fears in life is for the general population to think I have poor taste.

Yes- poor taste.

People can say I’m boring, not funny, too short, balding, overweight, underweight, unintelligent, not talented, that I have a big nose or that I’m too hairy… whatever they want in a useless attempt to offend me.

But being labeled as a person indulging in poor taste is the only insult I actually fear.

The way I see it, a parent jokingly offering to give their kid away is the epitome of poor taste.

It’s time to retire the cliché of offering to give kids away to strangers.

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Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

10 months.

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

Dear Holly,

To say you adore your brother, that would simply be an understatement. He is your guiding light for everything cool, adventurous, and new. Even though his handling of you isn’t as gentle as it should be, you celebrate him carrying you around the living room, as you don’t seem to mind being smashed up against his chest. You just look up at him and smile the whole time.

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

These days you’re very big into attempt to stand up. You can stand up on your own for about a second or two before you softly collapse.

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother h2

This confidence is leading to you climbing the stairs. I’ve supervised you getting about a third of the way up before realizing how high up you were and needing me to help you down.

You’re constantly on the lookout for something to pull up on or climb over.

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Fortunately, you and your brother are in this perfect place where the two of you somewhat accidentally entertain each other.

I’ve noticed that Mommy and I are now often able to get the dishes finished after dinner, simply because Jack acts crazy and you serve as his perfect audience member. I myself couldn’t get away with playing with you at that point in the night, when you are so tired.

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But thanks to Jack’s antics, you catch a second wind, which buys Mommy and me an extra 30 minutes to clean up, so we don’t have to worry about it after we put you and your brother to bed.

However, there are other times like on the weekend, when Jack just wants to play a game on the Kindle and be left alone. You don’t seem to realize that he’s not actually returning the attention.

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Either way, it’s a relationship that works; whether the two of you realize what you’re doing or not.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

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Dear Jack: The Ever-Hilarious and Glorious Choco Chimps

6 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack: The Ever-Hilarious and Glorious Choco Chimps

Dear Jack,

As a family, we rarely go grocery shopping together. Typically, Mommy goes to Kroger while I stay home with you and your sister Holly. But last Sunday after church, it was just easier to get the shopping out of the way, so we decided to turn it into a family affair.

At one point, I had turned the corner to pick up a few Kombucha drinks. When I came back, I heard Mommy saying to you, “You’ll have to ask Daddy when he gets back…”

You looked up and saw me. Holding the brown box of chocolate corn puffs, which featured a joyous chimpanzee on the cover, you asked me with a cautious yet hopeful tone:

“Daddy, can I have Choco Chimps?”

Seriously, how could I say no? A 6 year-old boy with big blue eyes had just asked me such a ridiculous sounding question, with such a straight face.

(Just add the phrase Choco Chimps to anything you say and I’m probably going to laugh.)

The only problem was, I couldn’t stop laughing. For the rest of the time I was in the store, I kept finding myself in fits of literally LOL-ing about the absurd thought of a chimpanzee who authentically loved chocolate cereal so much that it had to be named after him.

And then the thought that my own sweet son wanted to eat that chimpanzee’s famous cereal…

Though I’m sure you wanted to get aggravated with me for cracking up over the concept of Choco Chimps, you let it go since I obviously said yes.

This morning before you started getting ready for school, you asked, “Daddy, will you pour me some Choco Chimps?”

Amazingly, I didn’t laugh, but instead simply made you aware: “Yes, but just know, this is all that’s left in the box.”

You clearly loved Choco Chimps this week as, indicated by the empty box I placed in recycling.

As you enjoyed the last of your enchanted cereal, I was packing everything in the car. When I returned a few minutes later, the bathroom door was shut, as I heard you whispering to your sister. I opened to the door to see you holding your her; both of your seemingly surprised I found you so quickly.

Holly clearly enjoyed the impromptu game of hide-and-seek with you.

It was time to brush your teeth, so I sat your sister down near our feet; as she typically likes to crawl through them like a cat. However, she quietly (and suspiciously) just sat there on the carpet, right outside the open bathroom door.

After I finished brushing your teeth and had sent you over to the front door to put on your socks, I kneeled down to Holly, to find out why she was being atypically non-curious.

I saw that her fist was closed, as she tried not to make it obvious she had a glorious treasure inside. Then with my thumb, I pried openher fingers, to discover…

A Choco Chimp!

Looks like little sister managed to convey the message, even without words:

“Brother, can I have a Choco Chimp?”

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: The “What 3 Sounds Can You Make?” Misunderstanding

6 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack: The “What 3 Sounds Can You Make?” Misunderstanding

Dear Jack,

Holly and I were quiet, just minding our own business. You presented Mommy with what appeared to be an engaging, impromptu game, when she heard you ask the question, “Mommy, what three sounds can you make?”

She answered nearly immediately: “I can make a lot of sounds.”

You insisted, “But Mommy, what three sounds can you make?”

Slightly confused, she answered you.

“Ding… dong… ppfffttt.”

You were not pleased nor impressed with her answer. So you repeated the question, “No, Mommy! What three sounds can you make?!”

She followed up with three more noises that didn’t quench your thirst for knowledge either:

“Beep… bop… boing.”

You were getting noticeably upset at this point; frustrated that Mommy was apparently not making the sounds you wanted to hear.

Was it some kind of impossible guessing game? How could Mommy possibly know which three sounds were the right answer?

Or maybe there was some kind of inside joke that Holly nor I were aware of? Maybe Mommy makes three sounds that are funny, and you wanted to hear them again, because no one else was as good at making those sounds?

Things were starting to get tense. So at that point, I asked you to stop playing the game, as I just wanted peace.

“Mommy, U makes three sounds, I can’t remember what they are!”

Then she and I finally realized what you were getting at.

“Oh! You’re asking me which three sounds the letter U can make?” she responded.

What we thought was a playful guessing game was instead you practicing your phonics, outside of school… by choice!

Mommy was able to tell you the three different sounds the letter U makes; like in the words put, truck, and prune.

At last, you were relieved.

You were just a 6 year-old boy trying to privately sort out how the confusing English language works, and your parents weren’t much help.

So next time you appear to engage us in a guessing game, I’ll assume it has something to do with phonics.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: Our Trip to Mars

6 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack: Our Trip to Mars

Dear Jack,

We’ve now lived in our new house in Spring Hill, Tennessee for two years. One of our missions we just never got around to was to explore the cleared land across the street from the movie theatre. Originally, I had planned to shoot an episode of our superhero web-series, Jack-Man, there. But it just never happened.

So this past Sunday, instead of making you take a nap, I took you to the site we’ve been curious about for so long now. I couldn’t have known how much it would end up meaning to you.

Dear Jack: Our Trip to Mars

After all, I’ve taken you to some amazing places in nature, like Cloudland Park last summer near Chattanooga. But in the likeness of how kids often find more excitement from the cardboard box a gift comes in, instead of the actual gift itself, you were quite fascinated by the huge pile of red dirt that is slowly being developed across from the Spring Hill movie theatre.

It is clear that our father-son bond is most naturally strengthened when we are out in nature. That’s our thing. We can make a big deal of just dirt and rocks. We’ve always been good at that.

Dear Jack: Our Trip to Mars

You had forgotten your winter coat at school, so Mommy had you wear your oversized Columbia fleece pullover, as you brought along a “papered airplane” to fly over the canyons, and ultimately, for me to drop big chunks of dirt on top of.

“Wow, Daddy! We’re up so high!” you kept proclaiming.

Despite just being across the street from the hundreds of people of at the cinema, it was like you and I were in our own isolated world. You agreed it was kind of like being on Mars.

Amazingly, we made the drive home in less than 15 minutes. Not bad for travelling back from another planet.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Jack: Our Trip to Mars