It must be Greek god and goddess time in sixth grade because our daughter struck up a conversation about Artemis this week.
“Who’s he?” I asked.
“DAD! Artemis is a GIRL!”
“Oh…I knew that.”
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It must be Greek god and goddess time in sixth grade because our daughter struck up a conversation about Artemis this week.
“Who’s he?” I asked.
“DAD! Artemis is a GIRL!”
“Oh…I knew that.”
On Monday morning I strolled into the kitchen, stopping to snatch a bottled water for my drive to work.
“Don’t you guys have school today?!” I asked our TV zombified kids. No answer. They were maintaining just enough human locomotion to scarf breakfast cereal. “HEY!” I snapped. “You’ve got school in five minutes! What’s with the pajamas?”
“Oh! It’s pajama day!” said my daughter.
Not long ago was the 8th anniversary of “On Dad’s Watch.” After a lot of soul searching, I’ve decided to come clean with my readers…I have no family and these stories are written under heavy sedation from an insane asylum…FOOLED YA!
Among the many skills I DON’T have is a modicum of musical talent. I was booed during a ballgame for singing the Star Spangled Banner…and I was HOME watching the game on TV! Not wanting the same fate to befall our children, we hired a piano teacher and they’re each in their fourth year of lessons. It amazes me how they can look at those hieroglyphics, press a bunch of buttons and make such lovely sounds.
Sometimes life really does imitate art and recently we were provided an excellent example. In this case the lives were ours and the art was the zany flick, “National Lampoon’s Vacation.”
The movie became a cult classic because of its clean, well mostly clean, over-the-top humor and non-stop wackiness. It was on that critical assessment that I gave the OK for our kids to watch it a few months ago. They loved it!
Fast forward to our one night Boy Scout camping trip last weekend at Sycamore Canyon in Malibu. At seven A.M. I came bouncing down the stairs wearing a silly hat and doltish grin in true Clark Griswold fashion.
‘Twas the month before Christmas and none could contrive
The days of our lives the last 365
The scare from last year filled our diary pages
Our trip to Hawaii was one for the ages
And how was the year for the girl we call Dom
She’s approaching a time when she won’t be a Tom
As a lady her grace will never have bounds
Nor will her push ups and bench pressing pounds
Over the years we’ve come to a comforting realization about our son. He eventually “gets it”. I’ve joked that his “eventuality” spans generations, however his compulsive nature tends to shrink the learning curve once he latches on to a skill he should have acquired in days gone by.
There’s a family outing I enjoy very much and that’s the “let’s get ice cream!!!” event. Of course in California we treat ourselves to wheat grass frozen yogurt with bean spout topping but the spirit is still the same.
So the other night, on our way home from the weekly boy scout meeting, I was surprise at the tepid reaction when I announced, “WHO WANTS ICE CREAM!!!”
This week I had a couple of personal successes in my extra-work, extra-family endeavors. Most people call those “hobbies” but true to my Brooklyn pedigree, I like to redefine the English language whenever possible so, “fuggedaboutit!”
Success #1 was achieved in the effort to pass a Congressional resolution to create awareness of Capitalism. Congressman Rohrabacher and I have a handshake agreement, that if I can find 3 corporations willing to create awareness of Capitalism among its employees and/or the community at large, he’d sponsor the bill. Walmart, here I come! For those of you interested in supporting this effort, I encourage you to visit and consider signing the petition.
As our children get older, with our son about to enter his teens, we’re finding no shortage of opportunities to discuss issues of morality. Many of them are post-mortem recaps of prior infractions but on occasion my wife and I get a chance to offer preemptive guidance.
One such venue for parental advice is the trip to Grandma’s, where we have to provide counsel on either a juicy schoolmate story or an outright confession. Lately, our son has been coming to grips with meaning of lying…he just doesn’t get it! Read the rest of Judgment Day
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