Let Them Play

Perhaps we don’t give our children enough credit. I certainly know that allowing our children to work out their own difficulties will sharpen their social skills. I never take sides. I require them to use their words, to make good choices, or to try again. There have to be consequences.

And yet, idiotic phrases dribble across my lips like an instinct that should have been phased out with the appendix.

“Be nice.”

“Stop it.”

These useless, idiotic phrases hover around my children like gnats. Except, they have come so accustomed to these gnats that they are barely an annoyance.

“Use your words,” I say. A little better, I think. That was more specific.

I look in my rearview mirror. I take another sip of my lukewarm coffee, knowing full well that no amount of caffeine will clear my head of the occasional mind-numbing job of parenthood. We are four hours into a six-hour car ride.

“Gladys, do not grab your brother’s ear.” That was direct, specific, and actionable.

Very good. I mutter to myself, quickly laughing having used the most tired and worn out of all parental phrases. Yes, ‘very good’ indeed!

Before I finish my internal dialogue, Andrew begins a game of rock-paper-scissors with Gladys.

After some argument over the exact rules, they play nicely for a few moments. Then, Andrew changes the game to rock-paper-anything.

Huh? Rock-paper-anything? I listen.

Rock-paper-anything-one-two-three!

“What are you Gladys?”

“A mailbox.”

“I’m a 4x4 off-road Landrover and I smash you!”

Rock-paper-anything-one-two-three!

“What are you Gladys?

“Grass.”

“I’m a laser and I burn you up!”

This went on. I sipped my coffee. I listened. I am the youngest of three and recalled the frustration of being caught on the wrong end of a game with my older brother.

I survived, I thought. I often did even better than that. I am very good at (nasty) games.
It was hard to listen to it. It wasn’t fair. She continued to play. I bit my tongue.

Rock-paper-anything-one-two-three!

“What are you Gladys?”

“God.”

Very good. Yes, very good indeed.

The Real Story - or Not

You can tell a lot by watching kids play. In fact, with a few quick questions, you can probably find out more than you want. I know this. My mother has teased me about it.

“Leave me with Gladys, I’d like to see how you are REALLY doing.”

You know it’s true too, even if you don’t want to admit it. If preschool teachers talked!

My children enjoy playing ‘family.’

On the nicest day we have had recently, I was out front with Andrew and Gladys. Andrew was the ‘dad.’ Gladys decided to be the ‘baby,’ so that left me as ‘mom’ (it was easy on my imagination anyway). They always do approximately the same thing, and they have been acting out these scenes since they could walk.

Andrew runs or rides his bike down the sidewalk almost to my neighbor’s mailbox. He stops there and pretends to be at work. Sometimes, he will even ‘call’ me at home (we are still close enough that we can hear each other on our ‘phones’). After he briefly pretends to work on an invisible computer, he heads home. And, we proceed to have approximately the same conversation we have had for about four years.

“Hi, Honey, I’m home!” (kiss)

“Hi, Dear. Did you have a nice day?”

“Yes. How was yours?”

“Great. Let’s have some dinner.”

I try to mix it up sometimes, but it doesn’t really matter. They pretty much want to have the same conversation every single time. (I think we just all enjoy the kisses.) But, this time, the conversation was just a little bit different.

“Hi, Honey, I’m home!” (kiss)

“Hi, Dear. Did you have a nice day?”

“I got fired.”

Fortunately, his daddy is still working, but some of his friend’s dads are not. It is reality, but does it have to be imaginary too?

So, this morning, when I was in the shower with Gladys, I decided that I wouldn’t post about my son pretending to be fired. I was imagining so many other topics that I might post about, when Gladys interrupted me.

“Mom, why do banks close down?”

“They run out of money, Darling.”

“Where do they get the money?”

“They get money from people or business who want them to keep it for them so they can buy something later. Like, we might put some money there in case we want to buy a car in a few years (or a degree in economics for our four year old). Then, the bank takes the money and lends it to someone else, so they can buy something right now. People take turns. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. They run out of money. I’m good at taking turns.”

“Yes, Honey, you are very good at that.”

Of course, just when you think your children have a clear picture of reality, you get a really fabulous story.

After preschool recently, Gladys told me that one of her teachers put whipped cream in the shoe of the other teacher. And, after running around barefoot, the shoeless teacher proceeded to eat the whipped cream.

I can only imagine what she tells them about me.