Fancy Beers
You know it’s been a questionable week of parenting when your two-year-old child begs you for Fancy Beer.
If you are currently footloose and fancy-free, you should be aware that a child can enrich your life beyond anything you can imagine. They will fill your heart, enchant you, and give you a desire to change the world for the better.
However, spawning children will also reveal the ugliest parts of your personality, bring you to your knees in misery, and challenge you more than a back-to-back marathon. (Not that I’ve ever run in a marathon. I can’t really do any activity for more than four hours straight except sleep. But the exhaustion after a serious run-in with your child is what I imagine the aftermath of a marathon might feel like.)
This past week was one of those weeks of conflict with my oldest child, who is six going on twenty-three and in possession of a mouth that spews sass at will.
Truthfully, I am fortunate to have her in my life. If I didn’t I wouldn’t ever know how to discipline appropriately, or be aware that my tummy still looks like it has a baby in it.
She has the gift of stating the obvious, that child. She’s still in the process of acquiring the gift of tact.
After several days of our forces of personality creating hurricane-force gales and “take no prisoner” showdowns in the household, I was ready to call in the reinforcements.
We needed to road trip to pick up some rabbits , so I stocked Stella the Suburban with Veggie Tales movies, in a desperate hope Larry the Cucumber and Bob the Tomato would be able to prove a few points about kindness, obedience, and loving your mother that my strident voice and frustrated responses had not.
Someone please reassure me I’m not the only parent to use animated characters to prove their point! Isn’t that one of the major selling points of PBS? Mr. Rogers? Clifford the Big Red Dog? Wipe Out?
(Wait. That last one sends a different message, doesn’t it? And now that corporal punishment is illegal in the state of Delaware I guess Wipe Out’s days are numbered, too.)
So utilizing a GPS and the Veggie Tales moral compass, we completely our rabbit pick up. The media indoctrination netted moderate success.
Every time we get drive somewhere since, however, Tres has been asking me for “fancy beers.”
I have had no idea what she’s talking about. Fancy Beer? Is that beer from a brown bottle instead of a carbonated can? Imports? What does she mean?!
Did I misunderstand and she actually said Fancy Bears? Is that a Teddy Ruxpin? Build-a-Bear? A Russian black bear wearing a tu-tu with sequined eyelashes? A honey bear that growls in French?
What is a Fancy Beer???? What are Fancy Bears??!!!
Tonight, days later, I finally realized that for Tres, “Fancy Beers” is code for “Veggie Tales.” She likes Junior the Asparagus. She loves him so much she might as well marry him.
But if it’s either Junior the Asparagus or a Fancy Beer, I prefer Junior. That is, unless Mr. Rogers gets involved, in which case I’ll have to buy her a red sweater and pair of house slippers.
What television show do you use to help you make a point with your children?