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Diary of a Wimply Dad #3

The other day, in the “New School” of computer screen learning I overheard my son responding to a question from his teacher. But before getting to that is it just freaking weird that really my son (and your kids) are just sitting in front of an electrical device and talking to it. That’s what they’re doing, who knows if anything in the electrical device is real, I mean it could just be a toaster with personality, how the hell can we know? Oh jeez…now I’m off down my road of “What’s it all mean, Basil”

So back to what I heard, because I pretend to be working when my kid’s “at school” sitting in the next room over, talking to the toaster…but I’m really listening and the question was,

What’s the silver lining for you, Arthur, during this time?

Teacher

And Arthur’s reply,

Well my parents got me an Xbox because of Covid and because I couldn’t really see my friends and do things with them, so they got me an Xbox and I really liked that.

Kid

I heard the silence from the teachers end, I don’t think that was the answer she was looking for and she quickly moved on to the next child,

An you, Stanford, what’s your silver lining during this time?

Teacher

And Stanford said,

I get to spend time with my parents and help them with the work around the house and figure out new ways to learn using the computer and I also really like making cool signs to put up in people’s yards who are working and don’t have the same privleges I do so that they feel happier.

“Kid”

HA! That’s not what that kid said, in fact there isn’t even a Stanford (thank goodness) in Arthur’s class. But what were you thinking when you read that? And really what the hell is my point anyway?

Well my point is, I think that’s what the teacher wanted, the answer that “Stanford” gave. I think that’s what’s being taught to my kid. I think the fact that my kid really likes his Xbox is frowned upon. I think the “adults” would rather have my kid like humanity, compassion, awareness, love, cooking, sewing and, did I say love…but the problem with that is, he’s a kid.

When the damn teacher began to talk about the “Silver Lining” I was like, what the heck, a kid needs to find a silver lining in the fact that they don’t have to go to school anymore, that they have less rules, more freedom.

I disagree. But who’s going to listen to me anyway, that’s why I keep this journal, to share my thoughts…with…myself. So I guess, yeah, I disagree. When my kid first heard school was closed for the rest of the year he was overjoyed and I noticed it immediately because I was NOT overjoyed, in fact I was worried.

I remember hearing the news and thinking, shit, this is serious and feeling a heavy weight inside my chest. I remember approaching Arthur to tell him, not sure of how to tell him, feeling confused and I remember when it came out he was immediately GLEEFUL…and sadly I remember tamping that GLEEFULLNESS down a bit, not because I want my son to be less gleeful, but because of how uncomfortable I was with a feeling that was so opposite of my own and what that meant about the way I see the world.

And, to bring it all back, that got me thinking about the teacher again and the “Silver Lining” and what must be necessary to have a silver lining. To have a silver lining you have to have a shitty experience, other wise why would you search for something else…Uggg…

So I guess that’s what I’m paying for these days, to have my son be taught that his gleeful experience is really in need of a silver lining. Double Uggghhh…

Diary of a Wimpy Dad #2

So I’ve been thinking more about this whole Diary thing, and I’m definitely not going to call it a Diary, that’s one place where Gregg and I agree, this…is a Journal!

Sometimes, I have to admit, I’m at the end of my rope. Did I say “sometimes”…that’s funny because it’s most times. Not only does this damn kid have my heart like nothing else before but it’s HARD raising a kid. I don’t even know how anyone with more than one does it; I think you must just have to forget about a couple of them.

I remember the time when my son, Arthur, was like a little back pack…you know like the cutest little back pack you could imagine, like a living back back, or front pack or…pet…do you remember? Like in the 6 month to 18 month phase, you just picked ’em and carried them with you, no arguing, no opinions, no complaining, no hating you, no cryin…well yes, there was some crying, but it reall wasn’t anything you did. Not like today when getting out of bed to say hello to grandma is like the world asking for Arthur to save it in 10 minutes.

I mean really – I know he’s young and all and doesn’t have any experience and doesn’t share my feelings about how you should or should not behave around family, but for the love of all things holy and all of the heavens above, get your ass out of bed, smile like the sweet boy I know you are and say hello to your fucking grandmother who has only one goal, now, in life…to see you (actually she has two goals, the first is to see you and the second is to make sure you’re terrified of anything hot, sharp, sour, smelly, moving, dark, light, sweet…you know what I mean…I know you know what I mean!!).

But no! That’s not how it’s gonna be with Arthur…as he lets out an “Uggghhh” as if he’s just been asked to empty the dishwasher, stack wood, do his homework and throw away his Xbox, all before breakfast. Yup that’s what it’s like. And I just look at my wife, glance at Grandma (silently judging) and sigh – all because I don’t want to yell at my sweet boy to get up.

Usually I yell anyway!

The Diary of the Wimpy Dad

My kid told me he never got to do anything he wanted, he was oppressed, he was always told what to do, he never had anything of his own and how adults just turn kids into their slaves. He said he never got to do ANYTHING he wanted to do, ever; there was no arguing about this.

He told me he was reading a book, actually he had read a book, over and over…and over again, this book called Diary of a Wimply kid and how Gregg, one of the main characters has it totally right when it comes to the parent child relationship. Well, I said to him, after the 50th time he finished telling me he NEVER gets to do ANYTHING he wants, I think I’m going to write a book, called Diary of a Wimpy Dad.

He looked blankly at me for a minute and ohh, what a minute it was because I could tell what was coming into that chaotic little engine of a brain of his was an idea he’d never had before and, as the Boss Baby says, it blew his little baby mind!

That’s right, first of all, to hell with the author of that book, what the hell does he think he’s doing, exposing all the dirty little secrets of parenting and putting these foolish ideas into kids minds, again and again and…again, that they should somehow have what they want, when they want, all the time. As if keeping the little fuckers alive, fed, clothed and in 43 summer camps isn’t enough, now we have to deal with this sell out of a parent!

Well, I’ve had enough, both of the Author and of my kid constantly telling me how bad his life is in between shooting baskets, jumping on the trampoline, eating pizza and then an ice cream sandwich and playing Xbox before going to his customized parkour class. He barely has time, but he always finds the bit he does have, to make sure I KNOW how put upon HE IS, by me and his mom. He even has the nerve sometimes to hold the “Torch” up for all the PUT UPON children of the world.

Well guess what parents – as Twisted Sister so daintilty said We’re Not Gonna Take it, Anymore! It’s our time. It’s our time to set these damn kids straight and feed this fictional Gregg kid and his author some reality milkshakes, with frozen bannana and NO YOGURT, DAD! Yeah, yeah, but reality milkshakes none the less…after all you can’t change everything over night.

So welcome to Diary of A Wimpy Dad – it’s time for parents to fight back against the tyranny of the ten year old. Who’s with me? WHOOOOOOSSSSEEEE WITHHHH MEEEEEEEEEEEEE????

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