Kids Say The Darndest Things!

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Kids Say The Darndest Things!

Most kids are a plethora of entertaining quotes. That would be a definite plus when you have three of them that work your nerves daily. I can’t begin to tell you the number of times one of them has made us angry, then immediately diffused the situation by saying something silly. The younger they are, the sillier.

To this day, some of my friends still use No. 4’s term “juice bag,” A little nugget of goodness he provided after hearing an “adult” conversation that we obviously thought he couldn’t. Or our favorite, “butt wiener” when he discovered what made his sister different from him. That one coincided with the realization that maybe it’s time they get dressed in different rooms.

The things our kids say evolve with their age, as they should. But the lack of a filter is still apparent. Earlier this week, No. 2 came up with a theory concerning his football games: “Dad, you know how you couldn’t really watch my last game and we won?” I reply, “Yep, but I get to watch the whole game tomorrow night!” He says, “Well, what if we lose that game? And you know, we lost a couple last season when you were there…” I interrupt: “Are you trying to say that I’m bad luck?!” He replies with, “Well, I’m just saying what if?” Ouch!

Wow. What a conviction! The sad part is, he may just be right. I have the luck of a Griswold. All my life, weird, bad things just happen. Like, leaving a very stable job in Augusta to chase a dream gig in Florida and then getting canned exactly one month later kind of bad things. Additionally, his team is playing against one of the toughest teams in their league tonight, so his theory has a chance of being proven right.

But the feeling that conversation gave me sucked. Bad. So I responded with a somewhat childish, “If you don’t want me to come to your games, just say so!” Yeah, I know: Real mature. I have my moments. But he responded in the perfect way: “Jeez Dad, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings!” Ouch again!

But he’s right. It did hurt my feelings. There are so many things wrong with that. First of all, I’m a man and we’re not supposed to have feelings. It’s some dumb, macho thing that some men agreed on centuries ago and it was passed down from generation to generation until it became some unspoken rule. Second, I’m their dad. I’m supposed to be able to see past the “no filter” comments.

I suppose the correct response would have been, “Well, we’ll prove your theory wrong tomorrow night when I watch you beat the Raiders!” However, the Clark Griswold in me won’t allow my brain to react that quickly. I’m the king of realizing the right thing to say a day or two, sometimes a week later.

I will let you know next week the outcome of the game and if I am, in fact, bad luck.

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