She got a pair of eyes, just like two apple pies (HOL 83)

House of Laughter 83

The acceptable level of coarse language for children varies wildly from school to school. I heard a story recently about a child who came home and tearfully confessed to his mother that he got in trouble for using the “ ‘S’ word, ‘F’ word, and ‘C’ word.” The mother went to speak with the teacher about it, and only during the conference several days later did she learn that the ”S”word was “Stupid”, the “F” word was “Fat”, and the teacher didn’t even remember what the “C” word was.

Contrast this to the blog entry on my sister Alison’s page about some of the delightful things her children from public housing in Gainesville used say (I love the movie "Player's Club". They got sex, drugs and chicken head.)

If Isaac is being disagreeable about bath time, I try to convince him that he does in fact stink. I tell him , “You stink like an elephant’s butt.” Evidently he let slip the dreaded “B” word at school because the next night when I told him he smelled like an “Elephant’s butt”, he corrected me, “No Dad, I smell like an elephant’s trunk.”

Normally I would be slightly miffed at how prudish someone is, but I have to admit, that the phrase, “You smell like an elephant’s trunk” is funny, absurd, and a pretty good pun, so I’ve started saying it as well.

Isaac loves to sing. His repertoire of songs include, “Happy Birthday”, “Take me Out to the Ball Game”, “Jimmy Crack Corn”, “Ring of Fire”, and the chorus of a song by She and Him. I’m trying to teach him an old song my dad used to sing before he visits next month. My father probably sang it a hundred thousand times during my childhood, “My gal’s a corker, she’s a New Yorker, I buy her everything to keep her in style.” The next line is a rhyme about one of the “Corker’s” body parts. Nancy is so pleased.

Last weekend we took a walk in the woods near the Science Center. A boy scout troop had just rebuilt a bridge over a small creek. The creek was low enough that we could stand on a rocky sand bar. Isaac, and I climbed down the creek bank and threw rocks in the water. Nancy stood patiently on the trail, waiting to move on. Isaac then started looking for big sticks to break by hitting them against trees.

I sat on the bridge and watched. I asked Nancy to sit with me. She realized that if you are going to preach the “Last child in the Woods” sermons, you have to be able to stop and throw rocks and hit trees with sticks. She finally decided to join us throwing rocks into the water. It was a perfect day. The leaves had started to change, there was a coolness and slight breeze to the air.

I couldn’t help but contrast hanging out in the woods with going to the zoo later that day. At the zoo, you must stay on a path, everything is neatly labeled, you are guaranteed to see at least a few animals, anything you can climb on or touch has padding underneath or an alcohol dispenser right next to it. Also, the zoo is swimming with people who are in a hurry to move quickly from exhibit to exhibit to “see” everything.

I hope Isaac grows up to love our science center as much as I loved the Florida State Museum as a kid, but after spending unstructured time in the woods, and then going to the zoo back to back, I hope he develops a true love for the “real” outdoors as well.

Strength and Honor

Big Matt