My daughter, the Chairman, has charged me with failure to say no, when it comes to the Governor and Senator, but that’s categorically untrue. I’ve said no to them quite often. For example, at lunch, I was resolute in telling the Senator “no” when he reluctantly started to turn off the Cartoon Channel before coming to the table. To reinforce my grandfatherly strictness, I further required that he have lunch in the living room. And, when the Governor stuck his nose against the video screen, I was unyielding. He scampered away with alacrity when I barked “no … too close.” So, there!
On another occasion, the Senator whined, “Do I have to eat that,” about some vegetable or other. I was gentle, but firm, in telling him, “no.” And, please note, Ms. Chairman, he obeyed with obvious appreciation for the discipline. What is it they say, “Spare the vegetable, and you won’t spoil the child.”
Only once has the Senator resisted my discipline. That’s when I told him—quite emphatically, I might add—“No! You can’t have sprinkles on your ice cream … we don’t have any more.” As the firm clarity of my reasoning sunk in, he accepted the privation of two scoops of vanilla, mitigated only by chocolate syrup and maraschino cherries. So, even though deprived, he had a happy breakfast.
Daughter, dear, here is advice you should follow to achieve the same kind of discipline that I have installed in your cherubic children.
Firstly, “The Power Puff Girls” are televised baby-sitters and should be used only for that purpose, which is valid. In contrast, “Bugs Bunny” is literature, and “Tom & Jerry” is great literature, and they should be studied. Recall your pride as an English Major Mom when the Senator declaimed Elmer Fudd to grocery-store shoppers— “Kill the wabbit … kill the wabbit.”
Secondly, when discipline really is required, call the Green Goddess and take notes. Warning, it requires skill and practice to achieve “the look,” to which you and your siblings reacted with the compliance of lambs to a border collie’s stare. It takes even more skill and additional experience to display that “look” in a manner that lets the next generation know, “No, I really don’t mean it.” (This is the implied “no” as opposed to the uttered “no.”) This “look” should be limited to special and immediate needs and not used for trivial occasions. For example, the Green Goddess looked the other way on Thanksgiving, when the Senator and his cousins had a pillow fight in the attic bedroom.
Thirdly, you’re simply must start drinking ice tea, which is the nectar of Missouri or, as I-wish-I-could-remember-who said, “the house wine of the South.” In the pre-school set, ice tea serves the purpose of a “time out.” The boys will stop what they are doing for a sip of the icy beverage.(Readers, I learned about ice tea early in our marriage—nearly four decades ago. After shoveling the driveway in a sub-zero wind, I’d be greeted at the back door by my smiling, Missouri-born bride holding a frosty glass of recuperative ice tea.) Ms. Chairman, you're on notice that we'll soon be taking the boys to the next level of ice tea appreciation. When the Lipton’s runs out, we pull the cork on four—count ‘em—family packs of Luzianne, a vintage brew that we brought home from New Orleans.
Finally, visits to Grandma and Grandpa ought to be in the mode of a trip to New Orleans. When in the Big Easy, “Laisez les bon temps rouler!” (Let the good times roll!)
I think it's a contextual thing.
Posted by: aelfheld at December 1, 2003 01:46 PMI, too, find it a bit hard to say No to the Senator and the Gov. (See- the night I took the Senator to Target and left with ice cream, a new sword, and I-don't-know what-else) They're so darn sweet.
Posted by: Auntie Em at December 2, 2003 06:40 AM