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Friday, August 14, 2015

Parental Authority Can Always Be Questioned

There's no doubt about the clarity of nature's authority with its heat of summer and cold of winter, darkness of night  and brightness of day, hunter or hunted.  Kids who grew up in touch with the rhythm of nature learned their boundaries were non-negotiable. But like everything else, change is ever present in the world and in the lives of those growing up and those raising kids, especially as it pertains to boundaries.

Either I have been a fine teacher or my son has always known that my boundaries are not absolute and has fine-tuned the art of wearing me down. Recently, during his daily digital diet dose, he spotted a super fancy crane truck whose reach extends five-feet. He just had to call it his own. Here, I savored, would be my summer opportunity to teach him about math, the value of a dollar and the art of patience. It started off nicely with saving some of his allowance. Then it picked up velocity leading to his relentless pursuit to earn more money which meant I became the employer and the bank. After weeks of being hounded to borrow money, I left town for a conference returning to find he wasn't going to miss a beat to work me over since his mom had stepped out of this educational equation from day one.

The day finally came where he got close enough that I would kick in the rest just to get some rest from his incessant demands. We rolled up the pennies, counted the dollars, large and small, and carefully calculated the amount he had saved. We loaded up the car, and hair blowing in the wind with excitement, we drove to the bank, deposited his booty, and then returned straight home to order his dream crane truck online. After placing his order I was ready for peace to return to our home. I sat back in the chair for a moment basking in the moment of resolution, readying for the quiet expectancy that would ensue, and indulging, if not just for a moment, in the gratitude for the opportunity to shepherd this fine lesson for my son. I was, in a sense, reveling in my own small success when no sooner had we pushed send, I noted his footsteps padding away from me as he made his first journey to our mail box looking for his crane truck. I explained the store's policies as best I could. Given that it was Friday, the delivery, which could take as long as seven days would best be expected the following Friday. I noted the question mark in his eyes, still not comprehending why it wouldn't just appear in the mailbox as soon as we had ordered it. After explaining again, I punctuated the conversation by marking the calendar so he would understand. There, I thought, now peace will return.


But Trevor was not happy with this news and refused to understand nor accept it as the truth, repeatedly visiting the mail box a half dozen times that Friday. I figured I might not have Mother Nature with her absolute authority on my side in this life lesson on patience but at least the post master general was a pretty good second. I lost count how many times I heard, “Where’s the truck” that Friday and Saturday. Trevor spoke with such affirmation and authority that the truck was coming, but he'd worn me thin on patience and his perseveration had eroded any sense of success I'd felt in teaching him a new life lesson. I'd finally had enough by Saturday afternoon and instead of explaining for the umpteenth time that it would be six more days, I invited him to check the mailbox for himself.  To which, he jumped up, opened the front door, and there sitting on the doorstep, barely 24-hours after we placed the order was his big Amazon box.  Unbeknownst to me, it had been expedited by overnight delivery. So, who learned the greater lesson? I feel probably me. When one is relentless in speaking their truth with authority, heaven and earth and even the US post master general will move to make it so.

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