Yesterday was the first day of pre-school for the Boy Child. There was no way that I was going to miss this; I re-scheduled a deposition until later in the afternoon so I could attend. In fact, to my surprise, I was the only father in attendance yesterday. I donÂ’t understand how other fathers donÂ’t prioritize these kinds of events.

Anyway, no drama. The Boy Child was beyond fine. He was excited to go to school. He walked into his classroom under his own power, holding only his sisterÂ’s hand; she insisted on taking him to his class before going to her own. He took one look at the trucks on the shelves and we ceased to exist for him. DidnÂ’t even seem to notice that we were leaving, didnÂ’t respond to our calling goodbye to him, although his sister got a goodbye after she became insistent, and he was good. No separation anxiety in the slightest.

Well, no anxiety for him. He was golden. I was a total mess. I went upstairs after his door closed and returned a couple of business calls and then snuck back down to peek into his room. The window, while mostly covered with construction paper cut outs, did have some gaps and I snuck a peek. It was snack time. He was sitting in his little chair, one arm insouciantly hanging over the back, the other hand occupied with a cookie, happily munching away with a big smile as he looked around and took everything in. He was so beautiful, so perfect.

I am not ashamed to say that I almost cried. Hell, IÂ’m almost crying right now as I type this. It was the purest realization that he has now taken his first step away from us, his first step out of the house, his first movement towards being his own person. Simply, I am not ready for that. In some ways, change is like death. It is a leaving behind of what was. I am not ready for him to leave behind what was. Look, I know that I am, as my wife calls it, taking my sorrows in advance here but it was just the same a very poignant moment for me. I had the same problem with the Girl Child on her first day of pre-school. She was fine; I was a basket case.

I got to watch his class from the windows of the library as they went out on the playground and ran around. He was a blur of constant motion, taking everything at a joyful and determined run. When class was over, we met him on the playground and he seemed delighted to see us, although he objected quite strongly to leaving the playground. His teacher told us that “he was very sweet” and that if she could, she’d have let him stay all by himself for the next introductory session scheduled on the heels of this one but she’d get in trouble. So we coaxed him from the playground with a mention of the train that he had to take me off to. One of the other teachers exclaimed, in surprise, that the Boy Child ate three cookies at snack time. I replied: “The Boy can himself some eat cookies.” In fact, cookie may be his major food group.

He chatted with us, happily, all the way back to the train station. Everything was “gøy” (Norwegian for happy or fun, pronounced kind of like gay). Trucks, park (his word for playground), juice, snack, all was gøy. He liked his teachers and he agreed that he was very tired.

I was tired, too. Wrung out, actually, and I slept for a good part of the train ride into the city.

I think heÂ’s going to have a good experience there. And IÂ’m glad. The part of me that isnÂ’t sad, still.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 12:30 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 653 words, total size 4 kb.

Where do you learn to slap men upside the head? Is it something that comes from playing with Barbie dolls? I'm trying to figure it out you see based on two conversations I had with my daughter this weekend. Remember, just 4 1/2, she is, ok?

First:

GC: Pappa, who is your favoritest singer in the whole world?

Me: Probably have to say Ella Fitzgerald.

GC: Why not me, Pappa?

[Long pause as I think to myself, "oh my god, I can't believe that she just set me up like this and I fell for it"]

GC: Pappa, why not me? Why aren't I your favoritest singer in the whole world?

Me: Oh, I thought you meant to listen to on the radio.

GC: I didn't say on the radio.

Me: I know. I misunderstood. Of course you are my most favorite singer in the whole world.

Second:

She had received spiffy new sneakers for the first day of school, which she put next to my lovely French Westons, which I cannot afford to buy anymore now that I have children.

GC: Pappa, which shoes are prettier, mine or yours?

Me: I think mine are prettier, actually.

GC: Well, why are mine uglier?

[long pause as I wonder what happened again]

Me: They're not uglier.

GC: Well, if yours are prettier, that means mine are uglier. Why are they uglier?

I used to joke when I wrote that I thought I was doomed. Now I am not joking. I am totally screwed.

Here's the thing, I seem to recall reading that little girls learn to become women by practicing on their fathers. Its safe and they can figure out what works for them and what doesn't. If that is what she is doing, at this tender age, I pity the man she ends up marrying. Really pity.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:01 PM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
Post contains 283 words, total size 2 kb.

1 Hahahahaaaa. I would like to offer something constructive; however, I can't quit smiling and chuckling... ; )

Posted by: Christina at September 12, 2005 09:07 PM (zJsUT)

2 we don't 'learn' it. it's instinctual...and besides....how is it sometimes men are just begging for it to be done? rp..seriously... a woman's shoes - are ALWAYS...prettier sigh silly man at least...you are catching on to the actual level of your complete screwtitude.

Posted by: sn at September 12, 2005 09:54 PM (cHOGW)

3 rp..seriously... a woman's shoes - are ALWAYS...prettier I couldn't agree more heartily. And for the record? She's only warming up, sweetie. You just wait. I have a sudden urge to hug your wife. Can't explain it, but what a woman. :-)

Posted by: Jennifer at September 12, 2005 11:04 PM (1X5Jq)

4 Oh you really are in trouble! Certainly girls learn about how men think from their fathers and its great experience. However, keep in mind that females see the whole picture rather than the more obvious one that men tend to view. I'm still laughing! Thanks for the glimpse of your family life!

Posted by: dee at September 13, 2005 11:19 AM (sZnML)

5 Dan calls it, "Don't clip the blue wire". You know, the way you guys sweat it sometimes, worrying about mysteriously upsetting us by what you guys think is an innocent enough comment. It's not mysterious to *us*, though. And as my co-genders said above, women's shoes are ALWAYS prettier than men's. Shoes and compliments; remember, that's what we thrive on. It all makes perfect sense to me. GC is doing a bang-up job as far as I'm concerned. ;-P However, I can return the favor; I still have NO idea how men just seem to "know" car makes and models, what all the tools do in the hardware department of Sears, how the various football/baseball/basketball teams are doing *AND* who their individual heros are to boot. Dan doesn't watch sports, ever, picks up a hammer maybe once a year and doesn't go *near* cars other than our two, yet when he's with other Men, he can prattle on about all that stuff like he's a mechanic sports freak who's in construction. You may not get our idiosyncrasies, but I don't get *yours* either, so I guess it's a wash. :-)

Posted by: Amber at September 13, 2005 12:05 PM (zQE5D)

6 It's in the DNA, I swear it's in the DNA. I've had similar conversations with my 19 year old sister-in-law. You're definitely in trouble. The good news though, you've got some testosterone backing by BC. My poor father in law had three girls, it's no wonder he's crazy as a loon.

Posted by: phin at September 13, 2005 01:09 PM (Xvpen)

7 You forgot the golden rule. There are only two answers to any personal question a woman can ask. If it is about favorable traits the answer is "Why you are, of course". If it is about derogatory traits the answer is "My secretary" (or other female that the questioning woman could possibly hold a jelous spike for). Carry this wisdom close to your bosom, RP.

Posted by: Jim at September 13, 2005 01:40 PM (tyQ8y)

8 Those conversations made me laugh so hard. We have two little girls and the almost three year old is becoming so girly. It is so interesting to watch and wonder where they get it from. I had to send the link to this to my husband, because I think he's doomed too.

Posted by: Jordana at September 14, 2005 09:53 PM (M3W6j)

9 My husband calls those "Bullet in Every Chamber" conversations and you didn't see 'em coming! Poor lad. It's because she's 4 1/2 yes? Well, remember, darling, that women are far more advanced. And I hear Jen and raise her another hug for your wife! If the Boy Child is half this witty and remarkable, you BOTH are in for it but GOOD.

Posted by: Margi at September 15, 2005 01:42 AM (nwEQH)

10 Listen, RP, ont the shoe thing: I am male, and I do not have kids. Still, I would have said her sneakers were prettier. I mean, come on. It's like telling a woman that her dress does, indeed, make her butt look bigger. You must have been having an attack of the dumbs that day!! LOL

Posted by: Mark at September 17, 2005 08:15 AM (qEeIY)

11 RP... I rather missed hearing about your cute family escapades! Someone once told me that the trick to dealing with a question you aren't sure how to answer is 'Just one thing before I say anything else, I love you!!' and then you can answer it.;p

Posted by: Zya at September 17, 2005 06:49 PM (HOCyD)

12 Yup, you're doomed. Just wait till she's 15.

Posted by: owlish at September 18, 2005 02:17 AM (bJF7u)

13 There is something I've learned at great cost over the years which I will share with you for free. When a woman asks a man a question, a man thinks she is looking for a direct informative answer (as would another man). She is not. In fact, as the female child in question has here demonstrated, she's usually looking to have her ego fed or to manipulate the man or both. Therefore, when asked a question by a woman always reply with another question. My favorite reply to baffle the female is to reply with the question "Are you looking for actual information or you looking for confirmation of that which you have already decided?" Gets them every time.

Posted by: Locomotive Breath at September 19, 2005 02:58 PM (W7Snj)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

My parents are about to take off for a ten day trip to Norway, their first time there. My mother told me that she had the following conversation with the Girl Child:

Nanna: Would you like me to bring you back a stuffed animal reindeer from Norway?

GC: That would be very nice, Nanna, but what I'd really like would be an IPod.

Gulp.

All I can say is that my mother better not bring that child an IPod. I don't care how far she is wrapped around the Girl Child's finger.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:35 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 104 words, total size 1 kb.