I looked at the men in line in front of me
Men who had sacrificed so much to get to this moment
Perhaps you would call them heroes, but I call them brothers
As we walk out onto the field I secretly smile
Couldn’t ask for anything better
Than to watch and cheer for our daughters as they play their hearts out
Lifting her voice to near jet engine levels, my five month daughter lets me know with subtle nuance that she is currently unhappy. To my fatigued brain I begin down my checklist. Is it time for my wife to stick a breast in my daughter’s mouth? While that would shut me up, my daughter only cares about when she is hungry, and she ate just an hour ago. Let’s see if we can distract her with a toy. Nope, that jet engine now has nothing on her. Maybe it’s a wet diaper. Off to change her. Nope it’s dry. What is next on the list? My daughter shoves her pacifier in her mouth and the world begins to right itself on its axis. Oops, that was just a temporary reprieve as the aural attack commences. I roll my saving throw and fail, receiving 4d8 mental damage. I walk around the house and share her boisterous malcontent with the neighbors in attempt to earn sympathy points for why my lawn isn’t mowed yet. As she reaches for yet another gear I try to remember the next item on the list? Maybe she has gas. I try to burp her while simultaneously giving her gas drops. While the gas drops are a hit, the sound of my eardrum trying to cleave itself in two emanates from my daughter once again. What can I do? This screaming is turning what little brain I have left into a liquid mass threatening to pour through that split eardrum. Suddenly a sonic boom burp tears through the air and the world is at peace. I breathe a sigh of relief as I look into her angelic face. She is such a perfect little baby. At least until I try to put her down…
I find it interesting how I react to my children when they are in public. Growing up going to school you learn social norms that help society move along its merry way. My kids are homeschooled and some of those norms are not infused into their daily behavior. Now before you scream they need socialization I want to ask you a question. When was the last time you were complimented by a total stranger, and they mean it?
My kids make it a habit of not only saying hello to most people they meet, or just walk by, they also try to give a compliment to the person they are talking to. The compliment might be about the clothes the person is wearing or the way their hair looks. People seem to be taken aback when this happens, but they soon recover since the comment was given by an innocent child who doesn’t have an alternative motive behind the use of flattery. My kids honestly want you to feel happy.
Initially I would be embarrassed that they would do this. People just don’t compliment others out of the blue, well except when it comes to children. What would happen if we were allowed to honestly give a compliment to a person we know, much less one that we have just met? In my job as a professor I would be worried that I would face harassment if I complimented a female student on her hair. For that matter I could see it happening with a male student as well with the same exact hair compliment. I would complain that we have lost a little bit as a society because of this. Don’t get me wrong, I understand how it could be perverted, and has been for a large number of years. I am just saddened that we have allowed the poison to kill what could be such an uplifting.
While I try to point out to my children what is socially good behavior, this little bastion of good will I will not dissuade. It reminds me of what could be, and maybe will be with the help of more innocence and good will.
My kids tell me they cannot go to sleep. When I ask them why, they tell me they do not know. I look around, trying to figure out why, and I think I have figured out the reason. I think that the Sandman is afraid of something in my house so he avoids us as much as possible. The question is what is driving him away. I originally wonder if the kids themselves have made him scared, but I can’t figure out how any of my angels could put that much fear in a mythical level being. I move onto wondering about my snoring, but since I am not asleep as well that cannot be the case as well. That leaves me one explanation. What would cause fear to set a single step into my daughters’ rooms? What could cause so much pain and suffering that the Sandman would rather take a hit to his mythical stature than do his duty in my house? The answer is simple my friends, Legos.