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Family Man®: Grounded
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“Daddy, you promised to take us to Hawaii,” Jacob says as we watch a TV program about island habitats.
“One day soon,” I tell him.
“You’re lying,” he responds in a huff. “You’ve been saying that for 20 years.”
“You’re only 6,” I answer. “You haven’t been alive long enough for me to lie to you that often.”
Scowling at me, he turns off the TV.
“What’d you do that for?” I ask.
“I’m not going to Hawaii, so I don’t want to see it,” he says, stomping out of the room.
Such problems. I feed him, clothe him, keep him up to his eyeballs in his beloved art supplies. And it all comes down to a broken pledge to take him to a place most people only dream about.
I follow him to his room where he is writing a note with a picture of a palm tree and the words, “I hate Daddy. Love, Jacob Keer.” At least he signs it with affection.
“We still have to make a plan to go on our father-son trip,” I offer.
“Unless we’re going to Hawaii, I don’t want to talk about it,” he growls.
“I was thinking someplace closer,” I counter. “Someplace we can drive to.”
“Are you telling me we don’t have enough money to take a plane?”
I wince at this question, but it’s the one Jacob always seems to ask because he’s the family budget expert. He’s the one who asks, “How much can I spend here?” when we visit a store. He’s the kid who offers to split his meal with someone when we go out to eat. And he’s the first to tap into his personal savings if I say, “That’s too expensive for us, right now.”
Which is exactly what Jacob does as I fumble for an answer to his affordability question. He pulls five crumpled dollars from his “drawer of treasures.” (He’s got everything in there from favorite rocks to candy he thinks I don’t know he has.)
“I can give you extra if you pay me to clean the house,” he says earnestly.
While I am impressed by my son’s understanding that vacations cost money and that cash needs to be earned, I’m not ready to explain to him that flying to exotic locales takes a bit more than a 6-year-old – or his father – can handle.
“One day soon,” I tell him.
“You’re lying,” he responds in a huff. “You’ve been saying that for 20 years.”
“You’re only 6,” I answer. “You haven’t been alive long enough for me to lie to you that often.”
Scowling at me, he turns off the TV.
“What’d you do that for?” I ask.
“I’m not going to Hawaii, so I don’t want to see it,” he says, stomping out of the room.
Such problems. I feed him, clothe him, keep him up to his eyeballs in his beloved art supplies. And it all comes down to a broken pledge to take him to a place most people only dream about.
I follow him to his room where he is writing a note with a picture of a palm tree and the words, “I hate Daddy. Love, Jacob Keer.” At least he signs it with affection.
“We still have to make a plan to go on our father-son trip,” I offer.
“Unless we’re going to Hawaii, I don’t want to talk about it,” he growls.
“I was thinking someplace closer,” I counter. “Someplace we can drive to.”
“Are you telling me we don’t have enough money to take a plane?”
I wince at this question, but it’s the one Jacob always seems to ask because he’s the family budget expert. He’s the one who asks, “How much can I spend here?” when we visit a store. He’s the kid who offers to split his meal with someone when we go out to eat. And he’s the first to tap into his personal savings if I say, “That’s too expensive for us, right now.”
Which is exactly what Jacob does as I fumble for an answer to his affordability question. He pulls five crumpled dollars from his “drawer of treasures.” (He’s got everything in there from favorite rocks to candy he thinks I don’t know he has.)
“I can give you extra if you pay me to clean the house,” he says earnestly.
While I am impressed by my son’s understanding that vacations cost money and that cash needs to be earned, I’m not ready to explain to him that flying to exotic locales takes a bit more than a 6-year-old – or his father – can handle.
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