You were watching tv while your father napped.
You had just come home from school. Maybe it was the show about Lego Ninjas. Maybe the one about Ninjago, or the Japanese plastic coins. I remember the commercials and after every one, you said, "I want that" or worse, "I'm gonna get that"
You are spoiled (mostly because you are loved, no worries, my dear Boy) :)
I tried to get you to turn off the tv as the next show started. You protested, and as an adult, I should have fought harder. Grabbed the remote and turned it off. I also make the mistake of asking, "Do you want to go to the library?" Because you say yes. While still staring at the TV.
But we head off. You had asked your father if you could have a granola bar at Jin's. We go and you put down your 4 quarters. But it is $2. So I pull out a $20. And take the quarters back and accept my change. I ask you how much change I should get, 20-2? You say 8. The clerk says you cannot have a job working for him. (You are very good at math in school, but sometimes you get some questions wrong still. I fear the mental model isn't too solid with you yet)
See also: Figure 8 Cartoon sung by Blossom Dearie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCGNUo-XQJ8
You then proceed to whine for the next few blocks that it is YOUR money, those quarters, and how I should gave back YOUR money. I try explaining. Especially the part about being nice enough to essentially *give* you an extra dollar. You keep whining. I hand over the quarters and then require you to pay me back $2. And you say "Psych!" (or "Sike!", which is probably closer to the way you'd spell it, if you could spell)
I try to explain that "Sike!" doesn't work on adults (later you tell me it doesn't work on shildren. Because of course, I had tried it on you)
If only I could tell you how I am down to my 2nd to last rent check. How I have ZERO money coming in and fidn myself relating to that homeless Native American guy more and more. (Especially when it hits 20 degrees). How I have to make sure your father pays me $5 for the pizza, and why I really can't afford to get an entire pizza at Domino's. How I imagine, thankfully, that you will probably never know hunger because your family truly loves you. And how my mother is so eager to have me move back in with her. And how tempting it is, because I don't seem to be wanted --wait, I'm wallowing here. Sorry.
I had a terrific interview/talk with someone who runs a series of classes/workshops over in Brooklyn. He was eager to have me teach and really liked hearing my shpiel. The first in a long time. It made me feel smart and appreciated. He pays $40 an hour. For a 3 hour class, x 3 weeks. (120+120+120). Another day, another dollar indeed. 360<365. The total is less that half my rent.
I remember being your age, completely baffled by the idea of how grownups get jobs and then lives. I had no idea how to go about that. Now as a grownup, I feel baffled in exactly the same way.
The library was fun, we looked at a few books and you got 20 minutes of video games. The first was, what kind of dragon are you? You prefer an environment of a beach, and your biggest fear is to hurt the ones you love. Another one involved 2 characters boxing. You offered to have me play, but I didn't want to. You couldn't understand why, it was so fun.
We came back and you immediately did your homework. So you could get more tv. I let you watch for 10 minutes, but then tried to get you into bed early (7 instead of 8). We had a great chase over the remote controls. I hid them in your father's drum room and then fought you off. Then tricked you by letting you think I had moved them (you are gonna learn ALL my tricks soon! I don't have that many)
The remotes ended up in your pillowcase, you ended up in bed with a book called "Ironsides" which is essentially a comic book about the Civil War. We (I) read several pages and you got excited enough to tell your dad about it. I gave over bookreading duty to him, as he harshed my buzz (and probably yours). He asked about every panel and began to be angry that you seemed to be contradicting "grownups" when we were trying to explain (complicated) history to you.
You should know he raises his voice ALL the time. The same volume if he's stubbed his toe, if a page doesn't load on the internet or if a major tragedy happens. I hope you learn this sooner rather than later. It's taken me about a year and a half not to take him seriously at all times.
You had just come home from school. Maybe it was the show about Lego Ninjas. Maybe the one about Ninjago, or the Japanese plastic coins. I remember the commercials and after every one, you said, "I want that" or worse, "I'm gonna get that"
You are spoiled (mostly because you are loved, no worries, my dear Boy) :)
I tried to get you to turn off the tv as the next show started. You protested, and as an adult, I should have fought harder. Grabbed the remote and turned it off. I also make the mistake of asking, "Do you want to go to the library?" Because you say yes. While still staring at the TV.
But we head off. You had asked your father if you could have a granola bar at Jin's. We go and you put down your 4 quarters. But it is $2. So I pull out a $20. And take the quarters back and accept my change. I ask you how much change I should get, 20-2? You say 8. The clerk says you cannot have a job working for him. (You are very good at math in school, but sometimes you get some questions wrong still. I fear the mental model isn't too solid with you yet)
See also: Figure 8 Cartoon sung by Blossom Dearie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCGNUo-XQJ8
You then proceed to whine for the next few blocks that it is YOUR money, those quarters, and how I should gave back YOUR money. I try explaining. Especially the part about being nice enough to essentially *give* you an extra dollar. You keep whining. I hand over the quarters and then require you to pay me back $2. And you say "Psych!" (or "Sike!", which is probably closer to the way you'd spell it, if you could spell)
I try to explain that "Sike!" doesn't work on adults (later you tell me it doesn't work on shildren. Because of course, I had tried it on you)
If only I could tell you how I am down to my 2nd to last rent check. How I have ZERO money coming in and fidn myself relating to that homeless Native American guy more and more. (Especially when it hits 20 degrees). How I have to make sure your father pays me $5 for the pizza, and why I really can't afford to get an entire pizza at Domino's. How I imagine, thankfully, that you will probably never know hunger because your family truly loves you. And how my mother is so eager to have me move back in with her. And how tempting it is, because I don't seem to be wanted --wait, I'm wallowing here. Sorry.
I had a terrific interview/talk with someone who runs a series of classes/workshops over in Brooklyn. He was eager to have me teach and really liked hearing my shpiel. The first in a long time. It made me feel smart and appreciated. He pays $40 an hour. For a 3 hour class, x 3 weeks. (120+120+120). Another day, another dollar indeed. 360<365. The total is less that half my rent.
I remember being your age, completely baffled by the idea of how grownups get jobs and then lives. I had no idea how to go about that. Now as a grownup, I feel baffled in exactly the same way.
The library was fun, we looked at a few books and you got 20 minutes of video games. The first was, what kind of dragon are you? You prefer an environment of a beach, and your biggest fear is to hurt the ones you love. Another one involved 2 characters boxing. You offered to have me play, but I didn't want to. You couldn't understand why, it was so fun.
We came back and you immediately did your homework. So you could get more tv. I let you watch for 10 minutes, but then tried to get you into bed early (7 instead of 8). We had a great chase over the remote controls. I hid them in your father's drum room and then fought you off. Then tricked you by letting you think I had moved them (you are gonna learn ALL my tricks soon! I don't have that many)
The remotes ended up in your pillowcase, you ended up in bed with a book called "Ironsides" which is essentially a comic book about the Civil War. We (I) read several pages and you got excited enough to tell your dad about it. I gave over bookreading duty to him, as he harshed my buzz (and probably yours). He asked about every panel and began to be angry that you seemed to be contradicting "grownups" when we were trying to explain (complicated) history to you.
You should know he raises his voice ALL the time. The same volume if he's stubbed his toe, if a page doesn't load on the internet or if a major tragedy happens. I hope you learn this sooner rather than later. It's taken me about a year and a half not to take him seriously at all times.
No comments:
Post a Comment