Read on Twitter
I told my son for years that JURASSIC PARK was a documentary and that we would visit as soon as they figured out some of their safety issues.
I told my kids I didn't like fortune cookies because they were dry and tasted like paper and then I would eat them without taking the fortune out. They would scream and try to tell me about the fortune. I would act puzzled and chew away.
My son out one of the dog's baby teeth under his pillow one night hoping to dupe the Tooth Fairy out of a buck. I left him a dog biscuit.
I used to change the channels on the car radio with a little button on the steering wheel and then wave my other hand at it like I had telekinesis but only for changing that car's radio stations. The kids would try mightily to do it too. Sometimes they would succeed.
I would put boots in the ash of the fireplace and leave sooty prints around the tree. I would throw half eaten carrots on the lawn that we had left for the reindeer. Late, but not so late that they weren't still up, I would jingle a little bell quietly.
The world is hard and dark. I wanted my kids to think everything was possible for as long as possible.
We were never artful with them about sex, though. We didn't want to mystify it or romanticize it any more than pooping or getting your period. It shouldn't have totemic or taboo associations. We gave them facts and consequences and acceptance. We didn't make a syndrome out of it.
Oh, we used to write notes for them from the dogs when they went to outdoor lab or to overnights at their grandparents or with friends. They would be hidden in their stuff. "Please bring treat. Be good". Notes from the dumb one would have lots of grammar issues and misspellings.
When my daughter was four or so, I took her to a screening of something. On the way home, her in her car seat in the back, we wished on a star and I asked what she wished and she said "I wish this night would last forever." Me, too, baby.
I used to carry the kids into the front yard and show them constellations before bedtime. We would say good night to Pegasus and Cassiopeia and to Orion with his belt and his bow and arrow. I told them they were here with us after traveling thousands of years through the sky.
Their bedtime stories were about two rabbits. They would play the parts with their fingers raised like a V for the ears. The rabbits enacted all the major myth stories of the Greeks, Chinese, Norse and Egyptian mythologies. When they were old enough to read, they recognized them.
My son found a jacket he wanted at a store but was afraid to ask for it because it was expensive. I bought it for him and wore it around the house for a day without saying anything. It was so small on me I couldn't raise my arms. I said "I love this but it's too small. Want it?"
When my son was very small, he swapped out my water for a ketchup bottle at a little diner. I dumped a big dollop into my mouth as though unaware of the treachery. The screams of joy from wife, daughter and son made the gag worth it. I did have to throw the shirt away, though.
We used to have "races" down empty aisles at the grocery. One day, I actually ran instead of letting them smoke me. They looked at me like I had been bitten by a radioactive spider.
Whenever we went to the Botanic Gardens I would tell them there are paths that grown-ups can't see. They would go through a bower & their parents would stop short and look around, alarmed. "Where are you guys? You were right here a second ago!" They would have to pull us through.
I remind them of this sometimes now when they come up against something hard. "There are paths not everyone can see. Find someone to pull you through."
Anyway, a little thread to say that I lied to my kids all the damn time. Constantly. But we also constantly told them they were capable, fierce. That courage was being afraid but doing it anyway, asking for help was a gesture of strength and love, & that being moral is powerful.
Last one for today: I did that coin trick for my daughter when she was like six where you pull a coin out of her ear? We noticed the dog later acting strangely. She shook her head and a quarter came flying out of her ear. Unintended consequences.
