Our five-year-old has a loose tooth. This is neither her first loose tooth, nor will it be her last. What makes this particular tooth unique is it's reluctance to part from my daughter's mouth. It's wiggled its way back and forth in her mouth for over a month, with no sign of surrender. It's as if it's seen the others go before it, and it's determined not to suffer the same fate. "Oh sure, you fall out and a lot of people ooh and ahh and hand you around, but come night...you go under the pillow and YOU NEVER COME BACK!"
Well, fed up from the tedium of waiting for said tooth to drop, our daughter has developed a charming new game. She runs in from another room, yelling, "my tooth fell out, my tooth fell out!" We gasp, cheer, look.... and see that tooth hanging there, mocking us. My sweet-faced clone then races out of the room laughing hysterically.
It's not nice to trick old people.
The game is getting old. Truthfully, I know she's not doing anything wrong, and I LOVE that we have kids who have a sense of humor. But did I mention that the game is getting old? How can I gently get my point across that mommy doesn't want to play anymore?
Of course - a METAPHOR!
So last night, in a June Cleaver moment, I thought I would entertain the children with a bedtime rendition of "The boy who cried wolf". I had a six-point plan:
Story will be told,
daughter will get message,
game will end,
character will develop,
love will deepen
Parenting magazine will award to me thoughtful parent of the year award.
Simple, yet brilliant.
Teeth brushed, faces washed and jammies donned, we snuggled up on my bed for a very special story time.
Let me tell you - this story rocked. I will spare you all the tiny details, but suffice to say it included several fists of rock and a slammin' sheep impersonation. (Oddly enough, that also describes a date I once had.... but I digress.)
I finish the story; I look at my beautiful, laughing children, and ask, "So, what do you think the moral of the story is?"
I'm thinking, "Here it comes - the payoff - the moment of realization in which my children understand my point and love me even more for educating them in such a considerate and entertaining manner."
Their answer? The moral of the story?
"Wolves make good rugs."
Yes, yes they do. Wolves...and cheeky children.
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6 comments:
It's too bad she isn't a teenager yet -- all you would have had to do in that case would be to tell her how "cool" and "funky" you thought the joke was. That would be the end of that.
I think the more important question remains: There are rugs in the story of the boy who cried wolf?
Oddly enough, this was a conclusion they drew themselves.
My story was a very PC version in which the wolf was scared away by the righteous indignation of the villagers, felt remorse and became a vegetarian.
Come to think of it, there was a lovely sea-foam chenille area rug in the home of one of the righteous villagers who was tricked by the boy.
My story was a very PC version in which the wolf was scared away by the righteous indignation of the villagers, felt remorse and became a vegetarian.
Now what would Bruno Bettelheim say to that!
yo, love the new look.
Miko - a Bruno Bettelheim reference takes the intelligence quotient of this blog to a whole new level! (or any level at all, for that matter!) - thanks for the boost!
Mike - thanks man...I'm still playing with the look, but now that my readership has doubled (to 6) I'm more appearance concious.
Sorry to be a buzzkill here, and bring down the overall IQ of the greater blog family, but I have no clue who Bruno Bettelheim is. I'm hihg-fiving you across the continent, however, for managing a funny and PG sheep reference.
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