Over the past few months, both of my children have been saying the darnedest things. Precious has exploded with words ever since her tonsil surgery while My Main Man has taken it upon himself to become bossy. With all that being said, it has been fun watching and listening to them play and fight the way siblings often do.
Every now and then I realize I’ve told the boss every story there is to know about me. Lately, I’ve been narrating many of my favorite child stories to my students during down time. I’ve got a new bunch of students every 9 months so I can repeat the stories knowing I’ve got a captive audience. However, lately I’ve been realizing I’m forgetting some of the awesome details. I think it’s time to record those stories so my kids can hear those, “back in my day,” stories before I go senile.
The Sore Cut Home
The summer I entered fourth grade seemed like yesterday even though it was a long, long time ago. Both of my parents decided that they would take my older brother, Joshua, myself, and my younger sister, Allison, with them to Jamaica. Spending time in Jamaica may sound wonderful because the beaches are beautiful, people are pleasant, and the food is fantastic. That is exactly what I thought until my mother told me we were going to be going into the mountains where they both grew up and we’d all be in summer school Monday through Thursday.
So that summer my siblings and I woke up in the morning, took the bus to school and walked home in the afternoon. One day while walking home in the blistering sun, my brother suggested we take a shortcut through a cactus field. He suggested that we walk sideways down the rows so we did not get pricked by the sharp points of each cactus. As we began walking through the field we quickly learned that it was going to be a sore cut instead of short cut. The short cut ended up taking longer than walking around because we stopped numerous times to take out the tips of the cactus. I encouraged my brother to keep moving forward with one step. I knew that with each step we took, that would mean we were one step closer to home.
Growing up I learned from my parents being an older sibling means you’ve got to slow down, be a leader and good example for your younger sibling. If you aren’t going to be good to your younger siblings, you are going to pay for it when they outgrow you or Karma is going to pay a visit. As a parent I try to teach my kids the same things. My son is expected to be a model example and “useful engine” around the house (we are still into Thomas references).
Unfortunately, things don’t always go to plan. Sometimes one of the kids is unagreeable. Other times the kids have no idea what they are supposed to do. On rare occasions, the Karma gods reap their vengeance. …
Today the boss left to go to a baby shower. I have known about the baby shower for weeks. As the day came close the boss informed me I’d be left in charge. She eventually asked me what I planned to do with the children. Not remembering what she was talking about I asked, “When is the shower?”
She thought I was joking so I asked the kids what they wanted to do.
It’s not every day that mom goes out of the house and leaves me in charge. Actually, she does leave me in charge of the kids. It must be because I’m honest, trustworthy and dependable. I am all of those things but I can’t help but wonder how unproductive I am compared to my wife when she has the kids.
Having an older sibling is tough. Older siblings take younger siblings toys, they assume younger siblings always want their leftovers, and older siblings usually get their own way. This is completely relatable to MJ and her big brother Jackie.
Pink Frosted Donut
A few weeks ago, we were going to visit grandma in Connecticut. Naturally, Kim and I stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts before we made the 2 hour trek to down. Kim got her usual iced coffee. Unfortunately we weren’t able to get Jackie his “Special, special,” of chocolate munchkins. Instead, we got him a strawberry frosted donut. MJ and I split a bagel as we bounced down the highway. …