Weekend Snippets

Michael touched the stove on Friday. About two seconds after I told him not to because it was hot.

He was okay, although he did have first degree burns on the palm of his hand, especially on the pad of his thumb.

He cried quite a lot; I cried a little. I ran his hand under cold water and watched for blisters. That night he was complaining it hurt, and I gave him some Tylenol.

Aside from the obvious reason, I know he is my son. And this is how:

Growing up, my dad told us children a lot of stories, and gave us a lot of lectures. He tried as hard as he could to guide our decision making by leading by example, and he told us all the examples. Often.

At some point, probably when I was in high school or heading to college, I finally said to him, “Dad, you try to tell me not to touch the stove because it’s hot, and you know because you touched the stove. But if you tell me the stove is hot, I’m going to want to touch it myself to check.”

Now, I was speaking metaphorically. Apparently, I’m going to have to watch that with M.

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“Blurred Lines” came on the radio when I was in the car with the kids. Now, I’m not crazy about that song; the lyrics rub me wrong, too creepy. But the kids don’t know from creepiness, so I left it on. At one point, I did say, “What do you think this song’s about?”

Kate replied, “It’s a guy singing to a girl he likes.”

Okay then.

Flora said, “Wouldn’t it be weird if he were singing to a dog?”

I gave her a quick glance. “That would be weird,” I agreed.

“But it would fit,” she said. “If he were singing, holding a dog biscuit up for a dog.” Then she sang, “I know you want it/ I know you want it/ You’re a good girl.”

I almost peed my pants laughing.

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Kate tested me this weekend. She tested me HARD.

And she lost.

Even as I knew I was doing the right thing by taking something away from her — a big thing, a thing she had been looking forward to — I still felt bad. Felt *sad* about it actually, because I wanted her to do this thing. She would have had a good time.

Now we’ll just have to wait and see if she learned anything.

I know what I learned. Sometimes being a good parent *sucks*.

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What do you do when you know you’re doing the right thing, but it still sucks?