Thursday, August 21, 2014

Scatter Shooting 2. Thinking about Parenting

When I was in the fourth grade (the first time) we lived in Utah. I guess Utah had a big grasshopper problem because mom gave us a jar of alcohol and paid us a penny for every 10 grasshoppers we caught. That’s’ right 10 cents for every 100. Every time I think about the three of us chasing grasshoppers all over the neighborhood I want to call CPS. Never underestimate the power of a mother to manipulate her young charges.
When I was about 13 we had a litter of puppies. Mom said “Robby don’t you think you’d like to be a Veterinarian one day?” I guess so mom. So she kept reinforcing that idea until I thought it was my own. Now I wonder if I ever had any original thoughts or if they all came from my mother.
When I was in the seventh grade I always wanted to arm wrestle mom but she wouldn’t do it because she didn’t like getting beat. One day she wanted to paint my bed room some sick color and I stedfastly refused. She asked me if she could paint my room if she beat me armwrestling? I said.. sure because she couldn't do it. So she signed me up for life-saving lessons at the local pool. After swimming about 100 laps I came home exhausted and mom said “do you want to armwrestle?” Of course I did and she beat me. I looked at her grinning face and realized she had already painted my bedroom. Manipulative and cunning.
The last whipping I ever had was when I was 16. Actually it was a mass whipping because mom ordered Scott, Greg and I to lay down on her bed and she proceeded to lay into us with a belt. I’m not sure of the offense but I am sure we were well deserving of the punishment. Anyway we had learned to ignore the pain and just laughed instead. Pretty soon she started laughing and she never whipped us again. What a confusing scene that was.
When we would come to California to visit the relatives there were two big things we always wanted to do; go to the beach and go to Tiajuana, Mexico. When we would go to Tiajuana we were always told two things. Don’t buy any fire crackers and meet us back here at 4 pm. What parents in their right mind left their three sons alone in a foreign country? I don’t know but guess it worked out, except we always snuck firecrackers back into the states with us.
When we moved from Utah to Alabama and I repeated the fourth grade. Scott told mom he was going to run away from home. Mom said… go ahead. Well the little rascal did it. I still remember mom going crazy about it. So while mom was searching all over Athens, Alabama for Scott the police came by in a patrol car and told me to come with them they had found Scott. So when we picked him up the cops told him that if he ever ran away again they were going to throw him in the basement of the jail where they kept all the bad criminals (actually these were not the exact words). Needless to say he never ran away again. I’ve always wondered if mom told those cops to say that.
Of course we always had BB guns as kids and would try to shoot apples off of each other’s heads and of course have BB gun wars. Uncle CB who was eight years older than me happened to shoot my cousin Sharron right in the buttocks and it left a horrible bruise. Off course Sharron, destined to be a great mother one day, manipulated the situation by “over crying”. So here’s what our parents did, they had Sharron lay on a bed with her naked bruised buttocks exposed but tastefully surrounded by towels and had us file in to see the damage. I still feel bad for uncle CB about that
.
When Lauren was little she would cry for no reason at all… it was very annoying. So I told her if she would stop crying I would let her hit Walker in the stomach. Through the tears she nodded her head and punched Walker in the stomach and quit crying. Sometimes you’ve got to take one for the team.
When Walker first got his driver’s license I let him drive my Mazda pick- up. It was my truck of many colors. The salt water had not been kind to it and I had done the Bondo and fiber glass work myself and used whatever spray paint I had available. So one day a client tells me they have seen Walker driving recklessly. I thanked them and told them I would take care of it. After I verbally disciplined my son he replied, “as long as I’m driving dad’s truck I might as well have a bumper sticker that says ‘How’s my driving, call 241-9864?” It’s good that kids realize they can’t live anonymous lives.
I was filleting Flounder one day and Walker and some of his buddies were watching and I asked them if they wanted to taste the Flounder eggs? They said “no… you do it”. I responded that if I tasted them they do it would too and when the said yes I made them seal the deal with a promise. So I ate some Flounder eggs and said… your turn. They all went back on their word. Then I fastened my eyes on my beloved son and said, “you’re going back on your word too?” And he said, no dad I’m not and ate the Flounder eggs”. Proud moment.
Walker preached his first sermon when he was about 16 years old and just prior to that I asked Lauren if she would do me a favor. She said… what? I told her that when they sang the invitation song I would like her to respond and go forward and confess some vague sin and ask for prayers that it would help her brother’s self- image. Of course she refused. It’s good to teach your kids to have a sense of humor. Both my children have excellent senses of humor.
Mom let it go to my kids that I had repeated the fourth grade. Of course they were very interested in that and she explained that she had started me in school really young and I was “socially immature” and so she had me repeat the fourth grade when we moved from Utah to Alabama. of course they ran with that and said “maybe dad needs to repeat the fourth grade again”. I told them their grandmother had lied to them that the real reason I repeated the fourth grade was because I had killed another kid. There’s that sense of humor thing again.

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