A Rebel in the Making

Today, I was reviewing my first post Fiscal Cliff paycheck, complaining to the lovely wife that my net pay was lower due to the payroll tax holiday expiring.

The kiddo was getting bored with my explanation, because it didn't involve Zombies or Superheroes, and asked for a quick summary.

Offspring: Daddy, what are you taking about?

Paracynic:  Daddy got less money in his pay this week.

O: Did you do less work?

P: Nope.

O: then why did you get less money?

P: The government took more of it this week.

O (shaking tiny fist): Curse you, Government!

It's gonna be a long thirteen years.

At the library yesterday afternoon with the kiddo because, A) he should be exposed to books and B) it’s a nice warm dry place on a wet crappy day.

So he runs into one of his little friends from Kindergarten. She happens to be a girl.

So my son suddenly switches on, goes into full on showoff mode. Making jokes, regaling her with stories about the stuff they build with blocks, and pretty much transforming into the Life of the Party.

She, for her part, favors him with coy smiles and laughs uproariously at everything he does. Which encourages him to further antics.

Now, I recognize this dynamic. Done the dance myself, and seen it done well and poorly. Nothing new or disturbing here.

But they’re five years old.

I don’t know whether I’m more unsettled at the fact that flirting starts so young, or that the boy just has so much more game than I do.

Backstory is Important

Took the kiddo to Imajine That, an indoor playground since it was rainy and lousy. They have climbing structure, slides, a bouncy house, craft areas and a rack of costumes and hats and stuff to play dress up.

My son winds up wearing a hardhat, safety vest and fairy wings, and has a knight's shield strapped on his arm.

Vessel of the Clan's Hopes and Dreams: "Daddy! Look at me!"

Me: "What are you? A fairy knight construction worker?"

VotCHaD: "Yes."

Me: "That's different."

VotCHaD: "We need to build a bridge for the fairies, then defend it against the trolls."

Me: "...OK then. Strong work."

Lessons in being a Man.

Today we taught the boy about facing fears and overcoming obstacles.

Like rules.

We went to the park with lots and lots of slides. Now, it was a cloudy, muggy, lousy weekday, so the place was nearly empty. My five year old wanted to climb up the high, twisty slide after sliding down. Now, this is technically verboten. 

But it was awesome and huge and scary. It was, in his young mind, Everest. No way was I going to let something as pointless as The Rules take that way from him.

That said, there's a reason they have that rule. It's so we don't have a six toddler pile up as some other kiddo comes barreling down and mows his young legs from under him. Although that is also part of growing up. So I explained why the rule says no climbing, and why it didn't apply today and how we're Men, and we were damn well going to climb that mother.

So now he both knows the heady rush adrenaline of overcoming you fear of heights, and that when confronted with a Rule, one should as "why?" if the answer is something like "So you don't wind up breathing through a tube," that's a rule you should obey. If the answer is "because it Says So," then you can get all Henry David Thoreau on its ass.

The scariest power of all.

So the kiddo is really into Transformers right now. This afternoon, the wife pointed out a minivan to him that had a Decepticon sticker on it. For those of you who neither grew up in the 80s or have young children, the Decepticons are the evil Transformers, robots who can disguise themselves as everyday vehicles.

Kiddo: Is he a Decepticon?
Mom: Looks like.
Kiddo: What's his name?
Mom: I'm not sure. I think he's in disguise, waiting to transform.
Kiddo: What does he do?
Dad: His name is Suburbo. He steals your dreams.

What? He asked.

My four year old son was asking me about primary and secondary colors.

Him: Daddy, what do you get when you mix red and blue?
Me: Purple.
Him: How about blue and yellow?
Me: green.
Him: What do you get when you mix green and orange?
Me: Centuries of sectarian violence.