You know its coming, yet still seemed surprised when the first snow flurries drop on the windshield. Why drop your head on something only the nightly weatherman/woman can control with their state-of-the-art Doppler radar and $4.6 million computer program that spits out pretty blobs of colors for the masses at 5, 6, and 10pm?
Bad things happen; the downtrodden reaction to those snow flurries, seemingly endless cries to not eat that pot roast, and bad river cards that cause $800 laptops to be used as expensive Frisbees and the reaction to those things is how the outlook on life comes about. Do I put on the stern parent mask and rapid fire a bunch of inane threats of jail time in the Transformers plastered bed or resign to the fact that the kid didn’t sleep much since our jobs require him to wake up when its still dark and is acting out from lack of dreamland? Which way satisfies both of us? Should I consult Parenting magazine’s feature on 15 ways to approve parent-child relations or a MBA management book from an author with more initials than I have letters in my name full of buzz words like “bubble up”, “best practices”, and “going forward” with a double viewing of Office Space?
Often the train is coming down the track yet time after time I pick to stand in front of it the same way. The mind says “dude, chill the fuck out”, while the parent says “HE/SHE NEEDS TO BE TAUGHT A LESSON!!!!111ONEONEONE”. There’s no conscious expectation for the kids to act like perfect robots that eat their veggies, sit down when told, and crank out a new US patent every day so we can get extra tokens at Chuck E. Cheese to get the 200 tickets fifty cent neon green colored koosh ball that last about two days before being regulated to the far corner of a toy box. Yet, I find myself getting upset over nothing earth shattering, they’re both healthy, wife is smiling more often, and I find myself staring at the pebbles making up the paved ground trying to solve the mystery of how IKEA’s low costing wares make a profit, and how I got to this point of gravel gazing with the pending snowflakes collect on my Members Only jacket while invading this northern state.
Is there a way to break the cycle of constant introspection and live-to-let-live? Or is it healthy to look at the mirror while gazing thru the icy blues into the person people meet-and-greet with daily over overpriced 20oz. logo’d coffee beans with added $.75 flavor shots or electronic means?
Then again, the story could have ended face down on a dirty floor of a faltering Las Vegas casino, and overpriced center of higher education, or a concert series campground and people wouldn’t have gotten to meet that person. Or gotten tips on how to run back for a fly ball without pulling a Jose Canseco and heading the ball English Premier League style over the fence.
Enduring the cold fingers thru a long winter is worth the few bright spots of friend’s smiles and family embraces which act as gloves that have been sitting next to the heated vent.