Charades and Small Children

Going Off Half Cooked ( Originally Written in June 2008)

Children are funny things. If you have one or more there is a certain mental state you must achieve not unlike a seasoned combat veteran. The sight of bodily fluids including blood, excrement, vomit, and mucous must not faze you at all. Those with children know that all of these things are apt to appear at the worst possible times. When these events occur, the responsible adult, or in my case an adult that sometimes acts like a child, must act as if it is a normal, every day event and go about taking care of the situation.

You can always recognize the rookies. Whenever their kids do something, they just fall apart. Little Billy eats a bug and they are on the phone with poison control while measuring out the ipecac. The seasoned parent will look at the child and ask, “So how was it?” Which the child will then admit wasn’t as great as they thought it would be. A younger child who has not yet learned to speak might answer this same question with a burp.

I still remember one of the greatest examples of the seasoned parent I ever saw. I was about 16 at the time and my brother and I were staying at a friend’s house from another part of the county. Like us, he lived on a farm which is the perfect place for boys to get into all sorts of mischief. My buddy came up with this great idea for a little fun.

He had a pile of old spray paint cans that were partially filled but either because of a missing spray nozzle, missing a label, or just being too clogged up no longer functioned. So this friend, my little brother, and I started to have some fun. We would set the spray paint can on fire and then shoot it with a BB gun to make it explode. Of course we were smart enough to stand back behind an old engine block or car hood they had behind their shop before firing away. Safety first, I always say!

We set the first can out on the lawn behind the barn for a test run. We found that by putting it half way in a paper bag and lighting the bag on fire, we would have a strong enough flame to light the high pressure contents. The first can was mostly empty and spun around with some minor flames when we punctured it with the BB gun. It was somewhat entertaining but like Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor, we decided what we needed was more power.

About this time, his dad was out in the front yard talking to some Mormon missionaries. It was dark out and they were just chatting away when suddenly the night sky lit up as a large fireball came up in the sky over the barn roof. My friend’s dad had his back turned to the event but the missionaries saw the full show and exclaimed rather loudly, “Whoa, what was that??!!!!!” As quickly as it had happened the sky went dark again and the next thing we heard was our friend’s dad telling my brother and me to go into the house and strait to bed. In my mind, I could hear taps playing as we ran into the house knowing full well that we would never see our friend again.

About 10 minutes later he came into the house and got into his sleeping bag beside us. It was a great relief to us knowing that we would not be involved in his disappearance and any subsequent cover up. Would we have been questioned by the authorities? Would they have brought out the dogs to search for our friend? We can only speculate now.

We all lay in our sleeping bags without saying a word. It was quieter than a grave yard as we sat there waiting for his dad to come into the house and go to his own room. As soon as the dad’s door was shut, I asked my friend how big a trouble we were in. We were all on pins and needles wondering what sort of horrible punishment from the Spanish Inquisition awaited us, and also the ultimate fate of our friend whose past activities had resulted in some very punitive correction.

He began slowly and quietly in his description of what happened after we were sent inside. It was as if he wanted to make sure we understood the events that unfolded perfectly the first time. He then went on to tell us that the first thing his dad had said to him was, “Well was it neat?” I guess the dad had missed the whole thing with his back turned and by the time he had turned around the show was over. He had then talked to my friend about not doing that when other people were around (like Mormon Missionaries) and letting the dad know what he was planning on doing first to make sure it wasn’t too dangerous. Knowing my friend’s history of doing this sort of thing since childhood and knowing his dad still all these years later, it comes as no surprise that his dad was a seasoned parent.

The unseasoned parent will have their child bundled up on a cold day with so many articles of clothing that they can barely walk. The seasoned parent will see their child headed outside on a snowy day in a T-shirt and shorts and simply question them about it being cold outside knowing full well that if they need more clothing they will be back inside and get it themselves.

It is not that the seasoned parent is not concerned about their child. They just don’t see these events in life as a big deal anymore. The seasoned parent even may get some sort of entertainment value out of watching these situations unfold. It’s as if they are an observer of the events going on around them but not in any real danger.

A seasoned parent can suddenly be covered in poo while dining in a fine restaurant as the result of a defective diaper. They will then go into the bathroom, clean up, sit down, and finish the meal. This same parent can then wipe up puke from another child who gagged on some pizza cheese, pay the bill, and walk out as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. When asked about it they will act as if nothing extra ordinary occurred and behave in a way that indicates to the casual observer that this sort of thing is an everyday occurrence. Nothing out of the ordinary here to see people, move along!

Attitude has a lot to do with the response of a seasoned parent to child induced pandemonium. If you can portray the confident attitude that whatever is happening is no big deal then you are the seasoned parent. This is especially helpful when blood or broken bones are involved because panicking can only make things worse. Frankly, the medical professionals don’t have the time or patience to treat both your injured child and your panic attack.

The seasoned parent is also able to tolerate things that would make any other person hide their heads in shame. Consider for a moment the Milton Bradley board game known as Pretty, Pretty Princess. Pretty, Pretty Princess is a board game played by little girls everywhere. The object of the game is to collect several pieces of costume jewelry including wrings, necklaces, ear rings, bracelets, and finally the Pretty, Pretty Princess crown whereupon the little girl declares that she is the winner.

Many a seasoned parent, particularly of the male variety, has endured the game of Pretty, Pretty Princess. I can say with some pride that I have won the game more times than all my children combined. The seasoned parent will not only show no embarrassment playing this board game but will play to win. The seasoned parent will, upon winning, proceed to walk around the table in full Pretty, Pretty Princess regalia while doing the princess wave to his loyal subjects. If the thought of doing this sort of thing embarrasses you beyond belief, then perhaps you are not a seasoned parent.

Seasoned parents find all sorts of entertainment in their children’s play; and learning. Charades is another game where a seasoned parent not only participates, but thrives on the never ending excitement as small children take their turn at the game. My son for the longest time would only “act out” the gestures and signs for the word “pirate” when it was his turn to play. It didn’t matter if the word he drew from the pile of cards was bicycle or banana, we were going to see him acting out his very best pirate with his index finger in the shape of a hook to complete the look.

He has since graduated on from the “pirate” faze and is currently doing better in the game. The other night his word was “nail clipper” and so he proceeded to lie down on the floor. In his mind, he was the nail clipper but to us he looked like he was taking a nap. Perhaps our politicians are playing just a warped version of charades in Washington when they constantly do nothing of obvious value?

During the next round of the game his word was “Drill Sergeant” which for him meant going around the room and giving everyone a high five. I didn’t know the military drill instructors today gave so many high fives but I am old and don’t understand these things according to my children.

My youngest daughter has informed me that she is “smartickle” and knows how these things work. She was so “smartickle” that twice during our charades game she read her secret word to act out loud enough for everyone in the room to hear it.

What a new parent needs these days is a seasoned parenting boot camp. I was watching the Navy Seal training on the discovery channel and thought there should be something similar for those wanting to become parents. All the elements where there from extreme exhaustion, sleep deprivation, dirt, moisture, and screaming. Seasoned parents could stand around new recruits with crying babies all night shooting projectile vomit at them while busy bodies stand nearby shaking their heads and questioning out loud their ability to be parents. There would be obstacle courses for these potential parents where they would run bare foot in the dark across a room covered in sharp toys and goo that used to be food. It may be going off a little half cooked, but if they could survive this then perhaps they could survive the horrors of Pretty, Pretty Princess.