Parenting is an exciting rollercoaster ride filled with moments of joy, frustration, and endless learning. As moms and dads, we try our best to teach our kids valuable lessons and guide them towards becoming independent individuals. But sometimes, in our quest to impart wisdom, our well-intentioned efforts take an unexpected turn, and our clever children manage to outwit us, leaving us both astonished and amused.
My mother is a teacher and she once taught her class that if a bad guy is chasing/following you in a car, you should turn around and run back the way you came because it will take longer for the car to turn around to catch up and you have a better chance of escaping. A few days later one of her students ran away from school so she got in her car and drove around looking for him. You can see where this is going…she caught up and called out the window, “[name], you need to come back to school with me right now!” He looked at her, gave a sh*t-eating grin, and ran back the way he’d come. She was cursing herself as she tried to turn the car around to follow.
I wanted to teach my son the value of money and work ethic because he kept wanting Robux… I decided it would be a great teaching moment and a win-win opportunity as he was just getting to the age at which I think he should start doing chores around the house. He really wanted to buy some skin or something, so I created a chore chart and gave each chore a value. We established a schedule and everything. It was working out majestically, every day without asking he was doing dishes, cleaning his room, and picking up the dog poop, it was epic. Then one day, I came home and nothing had been done. I asked him “Hey man, what’s up with the dishes? Oh and go pick up the dog poop too.” He simply replied, “Nah”. Fighting back rage, I simply said, “Excuse me?” He said, he made enough money over the last x days that he bought his skin and he was good now. It was hard to argue.
Taught my now 16-year-old to always compliment people who insulted you. We were in a Burlington Coat Factory in Michigan when my mother was shopping for a bathing suit to take to Florida. There were few to choose from, so she was complaining. My kid was 4.
A woman tried on pants and said something rude to my mom who was asking my opinion and my daughter caught on that my mother was agitated. She squeezed out behind me and told the woman,
“Your teeth are such a pretty yellow!”
My kids were begging for a pet. I don’t want to take care of a pet, and I told them that they don’t clean up after themselves without me hassling them, so why would they clean up after a pet without me hassling them. Told them if they could keep their room clean for 6 months without me telling them, they could get a pet.
The youngest child proceeds to clean the room, then move clothes and a sleeping bag into the hallway and locks his door so his room can’t get dirty as he sleeps in the hallway.
I used to let my son have Five Alive juice boxes in his lunches because it’s a small amount and at least it has vitamin C.
In the grocery store one day he starts asking for Kool Aid and I said no way because it’s full of sugar. I pick up the Kool Aid and Five Alive to show him the nutritional data to prove my point… and discover that they have the same amount of vitamin C but the Kool-Aid has far less sugar.
Now he gets the Kool Aid.
When my older son was about three or four years old, we realized he was starting to act very spoiled and materialistic. We always tried to make him see how lucky he already had it, but he constantly begged us for every toy, candy, and treat he saw anywhere and everywhere.
Around that time, I came across a great photo spread that involved the photographer traveling around the world and snapping photos of different children with their most prized possessions. Of course, the kids in the US, Canada, and Europe were mostly photographed in rooms filled with stuff. But there were also photos of children from impoverished nations, usually showing the child with only one old, dirty stuffed animal.
I thought I was going to accomplish this brilliant parenting move by sitting him down and going through the photos with him. I’d explain how the kids with rooms like his were beyond lucky and he should feel more than satisfied with all of the great stuff that he had. Then I would show him the other photos and he would finally understand that there are so many other children in the world with far less than he had.
We looked through the photos and talked about each one. We finally got to one with a little boy standing on his cot with his one possession, a well-loved, dingy-looking stuffed monkey. My son looked at it for a long time. I could see his wheels spinning. “Success!” I thought. After a long bit of silence, he finally looked up at me, gave me a sweet smile and said, “I want that monkey.”
My dad tried to implement the whole you MUST eat ALL the food on your plate in our house during meals. My mom was never a fan of that lesson, but my dad was stubborn so she just let it go. Well, one day my sibling had 2-3 bites of food left on their plate and was very clear that they were absolutely full and couldn’t eat another bite. Dad wasn’t having it and insisted they could not leave the table until all the food on their plate was gone. My sibling realized they weren’t going to convince our dad that they were too full and finished the last few bites and then proceeded to vomit on the table and our dad. He stopped enforcing the rule after that.
When I was like 16, my dad told me that I need to stop treating him and my mom like my friends because they’re my parents. The very next day, before I got home from school, I had friend requests from both of my parents on Facebook. I denied them both. When my dad got home from work we had a conversation that went like this: Dad: Did you see that your mom made a Facebook account? Me: Yes, I did. Dad: Well, did you accept her friend request? Me: No, I didn’t. Dad: Why not? Me: Because, just yesterday you told me you’re my parents, not my friends. By the way, I also denied your friend request.
I figured I was about to get my a** reamed for that. But my dad just looked at me, looked at my mom who was almost in shock over my response, and said, “He’s not wrong. I said that.” My dad and I still laugh at this, of course, it’s been 8 years since that happened.
One of my 5-year-old twins was still having occasional accidents because she would get so caught up in playing/doing something else that she just wouldn’t go and would pee her pants. To combat this we would give her a special prize of some variety when she wouldn’t have an accident. This, in turn, caused her twin sister to START having accidents so she could get prizes for not having accidents (even though she was fine on this front beforehand.) We had to rethink our methods.
Told my 11-year-old who was being bullied on the school bus to stand up for himself if his bullies started hitting him again.
“Honestly son, the only way to be rid of bullies is to show them you aren’t scared, if they hit you again, punch him back and kick his head in. Just stand up to them and you’ll see.”
A few days later, police land at the door asking for my son as he was involved in an a**ault, a kid on the bus had kicked him so he turned around punched him to the floor and then took my words literally.
Thankfully the kid was okay other than some scuffs and bruises, and my son doesn’t get bullied anymore. I now watch which words I use to give him instruction since he’s taking them quite literally.
My parents taught me to call 911 when I saw somebody doing something illegal. I called the cops on the Wiggles movie I was watching when I was 5 because a clown stole a cake.
Luckily the 911 operator realized I was young, my story didn’t make sense because it was a kid’s movie, and asked to talk to my mom before sending out cops.
I taught them to stand up for what they believe in…
All of a sudden they believed veggies were the devil and bedtimes should be abolished.
Not a parent, but my in-laws love telling this story about my fiance.
He was resistant to potty training, and they eventually got him to start using the potty by telling him that he had to be out of pull-ups before a family trip to Disney World, because “Mickey Mouse only sees big boys and girls.” And also who wants to log a diaper bag around Disney?
Anyway, it went great, they had a great trip… and the day after they got back, he took a sh*t in the living room. When asked, he said, “I don’t gotta use the potty ’cause I already saw Mickey Mouse.” They very firmly told him that if he was old enough to use logic, he was far too old for diapers, and that was the end of that.
When my daughter was 10, she wanted to try out for a community theater version of Beauty and the Beast. She got nervous though, and almost backed out because she was so sure she wasn’t going to make it.
My husband, who did some acting in high school, stepped in and said that he would also audition, even though he knew he was never going to make it. He wanted to demonstrate to her that it’s okay to audition for something that you don’t think you’re going to make.
She ended up not only just making it, but she got the part of Chip. My husband got the part of Maurice, Belle’s father. He didn’t even want to be in a godd*mn play
When my daughter was young I was trying to teach her the value of money and decided to start giving her an allowance. She had a few tasks to do around the house and afterwards on the weekends before we would go out, I’d give her 5$. I explained that because she helped out and did her chores, she had earned money to spend on whatever she wanted. She happily accepted and stashed her money in her room, I thought nothing of it. Later that evening before I tucked her into bed after reading to her, she goes to her money jar, pulls out 2$ and handed it to me, and explains that it was for being a good daddy.
My youngest boy would never listen, and he was always totally fearless. He was also always really lucky. D*mn nearly every time either of us told him “Don’t do that, you’re going to get hurt”, he would do it and then not get hurt. So we ended up teaching him that when we said not to do something, that probably meant it was a fun thing to do. I remember really hoping that he would fall and break an arm or something non-life-threatening or disabling like that so he would stop constantly giving us heart attacks, which is weird to say as a parent but it never happened so it doesn’t matter anyway. He never got anything worse than a small scrape or cut that could be cleaned and covered in five minutes before he was back at it again. Looking back I’m just glad this was before there was anything like Jack*ss around to further encourage that sh*t.
Now he’s a stuntman for movies. Can’t say I’m surprised.
When I was about 2 years old my family was at a game in Angel’s stadium. My mother went to the restroom and left me and my siblings with my dad. While he was busy watching I wandered off. When they eventually found me I was halfway around the stadium. A crowd had gathered to watch as a police officer held me out at arm’s length while I screamed “Call the police, this man is not my daddy” over and over again. My parents had taught me stranger danger but forgot to teach me what police look like.
When I was a cub scout, my family and I attended a large fundraising dinner. This included a raffle with many prizes, the best of which was a brand-new pool table.
At the time, I had an allowance of 2 dollars a week.
I asked my parents if I could use up my allowance money for the next six weeks and spend 12 dollars on raffle tickets to try to win the pool table.
Everyone wanted that prize, and everyone was adding handfuls of tickets. There were dozens upon dozens stuffed into the jar.
My parents decided that this would be a good lesson about the dangers of gambling. They agreed to let me use my allowance for the next six weeks but warned that I wouldn’t win the prize and would not be given any more money for quite some time. I’d have to learn the hard way not to pay with cash I didn’t have.
I won the pool table.
As good people, we taught our kids that littering isn’t nice. As humans, we also let some curse words fly in front of them.
We were at our city’s 4th of July celebration when the oldest was 4. We were walking around and someone tossed their trash on the ground. Captain Litterbug flew into action, picked up the trash and yelled, “Hey a**hole, you dropped this,” while tapping them on the butt.
I tried the whole “have your kids quote chores for pay and bid against one another”. It’s supposed to teach them about working for their money and not expecting handouts like an allowance.
It turned into every time I asked them to do something I good “How much will you pay me”?
I’ve been teaching my kids that life isn’t always fair. The tantrums when one is invited to a birthday party have been too much. It’s been helping, some.
Then I was playing tic tac toe with my youngest. She covered up the column she wanted to use to win. When I told her that cheating isn’t fair and I didn’t want to play if she was going to cheat, she reminded me – “life isn’t fair, momma.”
Touche, kiddo.
My dad teaching the nephew. He hated smiling so in pictures my dad would tell him to say “whiskey”. When he tried cheese it wasn’t the same. Anyway, at school the principal was taking a picture of the class and told everyone to say “Cheeeeese!”
My nephew very loudly says WHISKEEEY.
At my school we have a lot of kids with learning disabilities (more than in your average school, as we have a special program for it and get special funding), so one of the first lessons of the school year is “everybody needs different things to learn, and if somebody is getting something different from you it’s because that’s what they need to learn at school.” You know, a kid-friendly way of explaining accommodations.
Now, the usual accommodations we offer are special chairs/wiggle seats, extra breaks during the day, and extended testing time and tests taken in a quiet room. One kid, however, has decided to take the ‘everyone learns differently’ lesson to heart and now talks in a fake British accent (I live in America btw) all day. Because ‘it helps him learn’.
Then all of the other kids started talking in fake accents.
I told him no food downstairs. He had to eat at the table if he wanted to and not in his playroom. When the second kid came I would bring down his bottle and snacks so he could eat solid foods that helped his teething while we played. My older kid flipped out because there is no food downstairs which was like a basic rule of life to him. When I said it’s ok because his brother is a baby and I’m here he took advantage of some shared snacks the kids had later. He would try to give his brother snacks that he liked so he could eat them downstairs too because his brother was.
So I see him sitting in his play tent eating animal crackers and giving his brother one as they hide from me because he knows it’s technically wrong. But he eventually saw the reason why I made the rule because although the younger kid would eat 1-2 he would then mash the third into a paste and rub it over the toys.
My sons were in kindergarten and 2nd grade when they came home wearing “Going to Be Drug-Free” stickers and talking about drugs. Asking me about drugs. Neither of them ever knew or cared about what drugs were before the f*cking school told them. Now they are fascinated.
Now I’ve had to hit them with some truth about drugs with conversations that I did not expect for another 8-10 years at least. (You try explaining meth and lsd to a five-year-old. It’s surreal.)
I know this is common (how DARE backfired, eg.) but seeing it in action pissed me off.
Me: We need to talk about you and your girlfriend. Look, when you are ready to have s-
Son: Dad…
Me: Wait, listen to me.
Son: It’s too late.
Me: ………
Read a book that suggested you ask your kid what an appropriate punishment for misbehaving would be and then carry it out. 6 yo son pinched his brother or something, so we asked what an appropriate punishment would be. He said, “Pluck out my eyeballs and throw me over a cliff?”. We didn’t follow through. And stopped reading parenting books.
My parents tried to start a chore/payment system around the house. There was a list of chores and then payment for them.
“Clean guest bathroom…$1.50. ” First, I just kept using that bathroom, so it needed to be cleaned daily. Basically getting paid to poop. They stopped that after the first week.
Next, I realized it didn’t say WHO had to do the cleaning. I’d pay the neighborhood kids to do it instead. I’d give them $1 to clean the bathroom and pocket the $.50. I did that one for like, 3 weeks before the other parents found out and I got yelled at.
My daughter used to always unbuckle her seatbelt to reach for things in the car, then not put it back on. We had a minivan at the time so she was always moving around, saying “I just need my backpack” or whatever, and we were always telling her to sit down and get her seatbelt back on. She was maybe 8-ish? I was home one night when she burst through the door, crying, blood on her face and clothes, and holding a t-shirt to her face, husband close behind, shirtless. The husband looks very sheepish. I asked what in the world happened to them, thinking they had been in an accident. Nah, just a backfired lesson. The husband tried to show her what could happen if she wasn’t buckled and he had to slam on his brakes. He claims he just tapped them, but clearly, he didn’t plan for her to propel forward, face hitting the seat adjustment thing on the back, bloodying her nose. He took his shirt off to help her stop the blood. Not sure if that helped her learn a lesson, but the car roaming seemed to subside and she’s a 19-year-old driver now who always wears her seatbelt.
When my oldest kid was 3 or 4, a few months after I separated from his mom, I found a home with a couple of these DJs who needed a roommate to split the bills. Mike was terminally ill, and Louie was a pothead. I was a young divorced dad. Pretty suave home amirite?
One day after cleaning the kitchen I stepped out to pick up my kid, came home and the kitchen was a wreck. Louie got high and decided to make himself a smoothie. He left milk, ice, bits of juice and just gross crud, everywhere.
I told Louie he needed to clean it up, he told me he’d get to it in a little bit, I told him I needed to make my kid dinner now and needed to work in the kitchen, and he told me to clean it up yourself, one thing led to another and pretty soon we’re in each other’s faces, really close, almost bumping chests, fingers pointing at each other, yelling really loud, lots of cuss words, before we both storm off.
I go up to my room, and kiddos up there with quivering lips and eyes welled up. He bravely tells me “Louie is our friend and you yelled at him very mean”
Dam*it.
I go back to the living room. “Louie, could you come down here please?”
“WHAT??!” .. he stomps into the living room
“.. sigh. I was very frustrated because I worked hard to clean the kitchen, and then I saw it messy again, but I did not ask what you were doing or how your day was before getting mad about the kitchen. I should not have yelled at you or said bad words. You’re my friend and I will try to use nicer words from now on.”
Louie looks at me and says, “.. the F*CK??!”
Then he turns and sees Kiddo watching both of us. “Oh god dammit! Fine ..”
And he cleaned the kitchen.
My kid asked us to hug each other afterwards.
Louie and I are still friends. He’s got his own baby now. Karma’s a b*tch, Louie!!
My aunt – she was trying to teach my young cousins (aged 3 – 6 I think) that spiders are leggy friends and nothing to be scared of. She demonstrated this by bringing them all into the bathroom to witness her carefully scoop up a huge wolf spider out of the tub, using nothing but her bare hands. They stared wide-eyed at her as she began to carry it downstairs to let it outside.
“You see, it’s so much more scared of us than we are of AAAAARGGGGHHH!”
It bit her. Of course, it bit her. She flung it high into the air, screaming blue m*rder, whilst her newly traumatised offspring screamed a falsetto counterpoint.
My wife sat our daughter down when she was 4 and showed her the Unicef starving children commercial. My wife’s intention was to get our daughter to understand how much she should appreciate what she has. Now because we live in a small town that is upwards of 70-80% Caucasian my daughter hadn’t really encountered too many people in her life of different nationalities and creeds. So out shopping the following day in line at a local grocery store, my wife was in line behind a black gentleman. To which my daughter very loudly announces “Mom look! It’s one of the people that live in the dirt” Thank goodness he had a sense of humour. My wife went about fifty shades of red and regretted her approach to being thankful for what you have.
This was like 7-8 years ago…
My teenage son was staying up super late on his laptop doing teenage internet things and messing up in school, so we put parental controls on the router so that the internet would be turned off from 11 pm to 7 am.
This of course impacted my wife and I, because we lost internet access during those hours too. Grumble grumble d*mn kids, etc.
Anyway, he was way more tech-savvy than we were, so he was able to bypass the parental controls and stay online as late as he wanted. So the end result of the parental controls was that the parents didn’t have internet, but the teenager did.
Too funny.
Taught them to read early. My son could read by age 4, and my daughter by age 3. This leads to some unwanted conversations as they will read things over your shoulder when you aren’t expecting it. Or even just signs on the road. “You’re going too fast, Daddy. It says 55 mph and you’re going 70.”
My wife tried to explain the concept of heaven to our 5-year-old after great grandpa passed. My daughter did not believe one ounce of it. She responded, “You’re making that up Mommy, you can’t be in heaven and a cemetery at the same time”.
When I was 7 years old, I found a cigarette at a party. My dad saw me carrying it and asked me what I was doing.
I said, “I’m looking for a lighter so I can smoke this.”
He handed me a lighter, thinking it would teach me not to smoke.
I smoked from the age of 11.
I finally quit both about 18 months ago, after smoking for decades.
I believe that I’m responsible for my own behavior, but my dad’s nefarious plan obviously didn’t work very well, either.
My son is nearly two. We’ve taught him “don’t touch” for certain items that can’t be babyproofed (a floor lamp/the fireplace’s glass door/low windows).
He completely understands that “don’t touch” means do not put any part of your body on this thing. No hands, no feet, don’t lean against it.
So now we have to watch him like a hawk because throwing a toy car at the glass isn’t “touching”. Neither is whacking a window with a clothes hanger. Or shoving an end table into the lamp super hard.
We’ve taken to yelling, “THAT IS STILL TOUCHING!”
He also saw his cousin (a year older) get her butt whipped for breaking the rules. Now, my son has never had a hand put on him other than playing booty drums after a bath when he runs around dodging his diaper. But that ONE MOMENT he saw it burned into his little brain, so when I say, “Hey, don’t do that. That’s a no.” He says, “Uh oh. I no.” And pops himself in the butt.
Toddlers are great. So great.
My mom agrees with our sex-positive parenting and gave my 4-year-old son a book called “It’s Not The Stork.”
I read a chapter or two to him (about the differences between boys and girls, etc.) but forgot about it.
Well, my son is the type to go to his room and spend an hour or two reading on his own. He’s a good reader but I NEVER imagined he’d read a 56-page nonfiction book about bodily functions.
Recently, he took this book on a car trip and says to me:
Son: Mom, when we get home I want you and Daddy to do something.
Me: Sure buddy, what?
Son: It’s in Chapter 10 of this book. “A special kind of loving called making love.”
Me: Uh, what? Why?
Son: Because I want a brother or sister.
One time my father wanted to teach me the dangers of gambling and it backfired tremendously.
So I just turned 18 years old and on my birthday my dad decided to take me to the new 18+ casino (electronic only) that opened about 15 minutes from my house. We arrive and the first thing I notice was how exciting the vibe was, almost like an adult Dave and Busters! Anyway, we pull up to a huge 3 wheeled slot machine. My dad says the following, “Now watch how quick $20 will go with one pull, there’s no reason to waste your money on these stupid machines.” He then gestures to me to pull the huge slot handle. And I did, with a lot of joy too. Low and behold, DING DING DING DING lights and sirens went off, everyone turned their head and I just won upwards of $5,000 in less than 12 seconds. I looked at my Dad, he had this weird combo of, HOLY SH*T WE JUST WON $5,000 dollars and I JUST TURNED MY SON INTO A GAMBLING ADDICT.” Well, got home to Mom and with a smug face says, “So what did we learn?”. My reaction was simply this, “$20 goes a long way in the casino” as I pull out my fat stack of 100’s from my pocket. My mom looked at my dad with confusion and panic. I will never forget the look on my dad’s face, it was so genuine and in shock. I am not a gambling addict now, but do enjoy going to the casino and always remembering the look on my dad’s face.
One day at 7-11, my 4-year-old daughter and I witnessed a guy scratching off a lotto ticket in his car. Disheartening from not winning, he threw the lottery ticket out of his window, onto the ground. There were quite a few people around and in their cars as well. I wanted to show I was a good dad and teach my daughter a lesson about littering. I walked over to the lottery ticket and picked it up while shame-glaring at the dude in his car. My daughter asked me why I did that. I said, extra loud so he could hear, “because littering is bad and we have to protect the planet.” I walked over to the trash can to throw away the ticket and when I turned around she had a handful of used cigarette butts. I was horrified and evidently, it was showing on my face. A lady in her car witnessed the whole thing and was laughing so hard. She rolled down her window and yelled “That backfired!” I had to take all those cigarette butts from my daughter and throw them away. She could tell something was up and I could tell she was confused. That’s what I get for being self-righteous.
When I was young, I asked my mother why some humans are darker than others (I am white, I started noticing black people). My mom kept trying to explain that we are all humans, it’s just like different flavors of ice cream. Still good, and still ice cream, equal but different :).
Well, next time at the supermarket, I was sitting in the children’s part of the cart and I yell out “Hey mom, would he be chocolate ice cream”?
She was EMBARRASSED
I got frustrated with my 9-year-old son. He was being very ungrateful for everything. I was wishing for a dungeon under the house to put him in until he learned to be grateful for the things he had and what was provided. So in one of my more brilliant idea phrases, I decided that I would have him pack everything in his room and put it in the garage. Then he could show gratefulness and get one box back per week. I also took all the furniture out. He had his clothes on the floor and just his mattress on the floor. The room was bare other than that. This was a brilliant plan. This will show him! And teach a true life lesson. After 3 weeks there was no change in him and he had not asked for anything back. I finally asked him what was up. He said that he really liked the room being open and did not miss anything he had. He’s 19 now and has a bed, a shelf, and a chair. Nothing else. He truly likes the minimalist lifestyle. No life lesson was learned.
My nephew used to torment his sister, who was older by 2 years, my niece, by following her around, copying her, taking her stuff, and generally doing what annoying little brothers do. She whined and cried to me all the time, a hundred times a day she was crying for me to intervene, referee, send him away, etc.
One day, when she was about 9 I said, in utter exasperation, “Becka, I cannot referee every time he does something that annoys you! Make it not worth his while to mess with you! Make him regret it.” First time in her life she took what I said very seriously.
Thus began the stage of her development where whenever he did something to irritate her she belted him as hard as she could. I mean major league wind-ups and pitching-style punches that knocked him right over. The first time I saw her take a world-class swing at him, she sassily said, “You told me to make him re-think messing with me!”
To be fair, she usually gave him a warning. “Ryan, if you do that one more time I’m gonna smack you! Ryan, if you don’t knock it off I’m going to throw you in that pricker bush.” He didn’t so she did, she hip-checked and flipped him right into that bush. If he stopped, he lived, if not she went tiny blonde Mike Tyson on him.
My dad, when I was younger, around 4, was teaching me how important it was to be honest and truthful. He usually took me to daycare and picked me up to come home. I was with him one day when he got a speeding ticket. Then a couple of weeks later, he didn’t stop all the way at a stop sign. Again, a cop pulled him over. The cop was asking him if he had been pulled over before and he said no. I loudly chirped up in the backseat and said “Yes you did Daddy! Remember when you got a ticket coming home from Mrs Joyce’s (my daycare)?”
His eyes got so big looking in the rearview mirror. The cop started dying laughing. He let him go with a warning and gave me a sticker. So it all worked out in the end.
My mother was just telling me a story about 3-year-old me. We were poor, and she would sell necklaces she made on the street. Sadly daycare or anything similar wasn’t an option so I spent a lot of afternoon with her while she sold stuff. Apparently, I was way too sociable, so as soon as she took her eyes off me I would sprint away, talk to anyone I ran to, and generally being an easy k*dnapping target.
So of course my mother sets me aside and gives me the whole “don’t talk to strangers” deal. Apparently, I didn’t know what “stranger” meant, so she told me to just don’t talk to anyone unless I knew his name and his mom’s name. Five minutes pass and I was missing again. Mom has to go out and find me, and sure enough I’m sitting on a bench talking to some old guy.
“Didn’t I tell you to not talk to strangers?” said my mom
“But he’s not a stranger” I replied “His name is So-and-so and her mother’s is So-and-so, I asked!”
My kindergartener son asked me about Santa Claus. Because of circumstances with my child’s father, I have a strict personal policy of never lying to my child. So I answered his questions directly and told him about the history and long ago people the Santa Claus tradition is based on. He was riveted. I walked away feeling good about the conversation.
His teacher pulled me aside after school. He had stood up in the middle of class and announced to the whole room, “SANTA CLAUS IS DEAD.”
My 8-year-old was spending too much time playing video games. I asked him to research the harmful results of too much time gaming. He came back with his report stating he needed “gaming glasses” and a “gaming chair.”
Told my kid to walk away from the urge to get angry at his classmates when they hurt or upset him for whatever reason (he’s 6). Got a call today that he’s walked out of PE and into the adjacent orchard connected to their school to cool off for a bit and they couldn’t coax him back in at first.
He explained himself and said I’d told him to walk away and cool off rather than get upset if he was angry. Had to explain to him and the school what I meant to his teacher and I’ll be clearer in future!!