Ignorance Is Bliss

I think one of the most important parenting skills I've learned recently is how to ignore a child. I'm not talking about ignoring children's needs or abandoning them; I mean ignoring them in much smaller ways. It's the only way to stay sane, really. Here's an example involving my four-year-old sister:

(Mom, Savy, and I are sitting at the table, having lunch. Mom is reading a magazine as she eats. I'm staring into space. Savy, being quiet for a few seconds, is staring at me, munching away. Suddenly, struck by a question that has long haunted mankind, Savy opens her mouth.)

Savy: What if chips burn?

(Mom continues reading her magazine.)

Savy: What if chips burn?

(I'm not reading anything, but I'm quiet. This is Savannah's 5,395,392,388th what-if question of the year. Sometimes if you answer, she just comes up with another one.)

Savy: What if chips burn?

(I look at Mom to see if she will respond. Savannah, undeterred and not in the least offended by our unresponsiveness, continues.)

Savy: What if chips burn? (Waits for an answer.) What if chips burn?

Mom: (looks up from her magazine) Mmmm. Then I guess they'd be burned. (Looks back down at magazine.)

(Savy, perfectly satisfied, resumes eating.)

Repeat that about three billion times, except that at dinner she's more talkative and gets offended when there's not total silence for her comments or when she gets interrupted, and you know what mealtime is like with a little kid. That's just one. Witnessing this, I can't help but think back to those years when we older ones were all little, so Mom got to sit at the head of a table filled with kids spouting weird questions and conversational drivel. I imagine that sometimes she wondered to herself what it would be like to speak to another adult at the table. (Dad read books.) If she hadn't ignored us for her own thoughts at least some of the time, she would probably be a raving lunatic. Kids are great, no mistake; they're just, as Cosby would say, brain damaged. Good thing it gets better and better through the years.

Thanks, Mom, for ignoring us when we needed it.

Our Ranks Are Dwindling

I put my feet in front of me, lean into where I'm going
What is this banner in my hands, torn streamers worn and blowing?
Why carry I this lonely flag whose bearer fell today?
Why, squinting, do I carry on? I cannot see the way.
Six years ago we led the charge, my dearest friends and I;
Shoulder-shoulder, weapons drawn, to fight, perhaps to die
I've watched so many 'round me break, and faintly smiling fall
I doubted once, but now it looks like love may conquer all.

Cool Site

I've been having some fun with Obamicon.Me. Check it out!

On Burping

I grew up sandwiched between two brothers, so I suppose it's only natural that, along with them, I perfected the art of burping at will at a young age. I occasionally outstripped them at it, even. I admit it. This was a talent that I naturally did not display at church or around young women my age, but it wasn't something I considered "gross," seeing how I knew the effort it took to gulp down enough air to save up a big one. I enjoyed delivering shock value at home. Mom could never abide burping at the table, but Dad thought it was great, and for a while so did I.

Then I went to college and had a roommate who burped often and unrestrainedly. Loudly. She was so used to doing it that she didn't even hear herself anymore and would deny burping if told she'd just done so. That was the troubling part: she couldn't even control it anymore. Shock-value burps delivered every day lose their ability to shock and just, to me, became the disgusting sound of her innards, prominently declaring that she had no control over her body and no desire to take control either, not for politeness' or roommates' or anyone's sake.

After living with her, I can't stand it when girl friends burp out loud on purpose. Especially when they think it's funny. When you're over twenty, it means something more than that you've got air in your throat. "I can't help it!" I sometimes hear. Yes you can. It's called closing your mouth.




That said . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I still think this is hilarious.