Where Wisdom Fails

A few weeks ago a friend wrote historical account of King David and how his words had relevance to events of modern times.  Today, I will be doing the same with King David's successor (his son), King Solomon. I must first warn you that this is NOT a biblical reference.  This is a reference to a biblical figure.  SO I don't want any email talking about how I'm changing the bible.  If you want to read the ACTUAL account... read a bible.  If you want to hear MY account... here it goes.

King Solomon was given the gift of Wisdom.  He was wise beyond his years AND experience.  There are other stories that tell of his wisdom and why he was considered a great King.  But I want to focus on one in particular.  It's the story of the 2 mothers and the baby.

King Solomon was busy doing kingly things when he was told that he needed to make a judgment call.  He was told that this was a high profile case where the evidence needed to solve it was nonexistent.  Not wanting to back down from a challenge, he decided to rule on the case.  Plus, he was King so his words would be final.  Also, figuring this was a great moment to gain some much needed exposure for his kingdom, he made sure the local media was summonsed and had a front-row seat to this interesting case.

Bailiff:  All rise!  Hear Ye, Hear Ye!  The (currently) United State of Israel Court is now in session.  The honorable Judge and King Solomon will be presiding over the case.  (Queue the music: Lil Jon - Get Low.  He was known for is wisdom but he was also known to get crunk every now and then!) You my now be seated.

King Solomon: Bring forth the plaintiff and the defendant.

Bailiff: I would love to, your Kingship, but I can tell which is which.

KS: What do you mean?

Bailiff: *sigh* Well, you'll see.  Bring them both in.

At that point, 2 women walked into the courtroom and make their way to the Bailiff.

Bailiff: Place your hand on this stone tablet with the 10 Commandments etched into it and repeat after me. 'I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.' (The women repeat.)

KS: Great.  Now will someone tell me why you are even here.

Woman 1: That woman took my baby!

Woman 2: I did NOT!  You took my baby!

KS: Ladies, ladies!  One at a time.  Woman 1... Would you please tell your side of the story.

W1: Both of us had children at the same time.  We were even friends until the other night when SHE (let the record show she is pointing at W2) rolled over and smothered her child in her sleep.  I was sleeping soundly in my Sleep Number bed... my number is 20, BTW... when W2 came over and TOOK my baby.  I didn't even know my baby was gone until the morning when I realized that I had woken up from the first good nights sleep that I've had since becoming a mother.  Now, may I have my baby?  Please!

KS: What say you W2?

W2: Well, the story she told was the truth.  That is except for the fact that she took MY baby while I was sleeping on my Tempur-Pedic bed.

W1:  I did NOT!!!

W2: You did too!

The two women began to fight as the gathering crowd starts chanting 'Solly! Solly! Solly!'  Of course, the Bailiff breaks it up.

KS: Ladies, Ladies!  I'm not going to warn you again.  There will be no fighting in this courtroom!  Now do either of you have any witnesses?

W1: No.

W2: No.

KS: *sarcastically* Great. OK. Where are the deadbeat baby daddies in all of this?

W1: Ummm... I think you sent them both to war.

KS: Oh! *AHEM* Uhhh...Sorry about that.  Let's move on!  We will solve this right now.  Where is the baby?

Just then a representative from Social Services enters into the courtroom with the baby.  The crowd goes 'awwwww'. Soft background music begins to play. (They have to tug on the heart strings because this is sweeps week.)

KS: Please hand the baby to W1.

Baby: WAAAA!!!!

KS: Now hand the baby to W2.

Baby: WAAAA!!!!

KS: OK... That didn't work.  I thought that would make it an open and shut case.  I guess not.  This is going to require me to use my noodle on this one. (The Bailiff whispers in his ear that there is only about 10 minutes of TV time left so he needs to start wrapping up this case.)

King Solomon thought and thought for what seemed like an eternity on TV time.  But all of a sudden his God-given talent of wisdom kicked in.

KS: Bailiff, may I borrow your sword?

The Bailiff looked confused but obliged.

KS: Bailiff, will you hold the baby?

Bailiff:  Wait, sir!  What are you going to do. (As he goes over and takes the baby.)

KS: Well... since I don't know which woman is telling the truth, I have to assume that they are BOTH telling the truth.  In which case, this baby should be shared between them.  I'm going to cut the baby in half and each woman will get a half a child.

The crowd gasps!  The bailiff gets the 'EWWW' face but then shrugs it off because he realizes that this will be GREAT for ratings!  Just then the women speak up.

W2: NO!  My King!  I know you are a wise man and your word is final.  But PLEASE don't kill my baby!  Just give her (let the record show she is pointing to W1) the baby.  I would rather see my baby with her than chopped up for ratings.

W1: See, this woman is questioning your decision.  I, for one, think you are a wise, noble and honorably King.  So if you think the baby should be split between the two of us then I agree with everything you said.

KS:  I will be back after this commercial break with my decision.

(commercial break)

KS: OK.  I have made my decision.  There will not be any cutting of the baby today. (The crowd goes 'AWWWW!') W1 agrees that I am a wise King so she thinks my decision should be accepted.  W2 has already decided to give the child to W1 so there is only one thing left for me to do...  (He goes over to the Bailiff and gets the baby.) I'm going to give this beautiful, wonderful... wet baby to its rightful mother... W2. W1 (in a totally ripped from Maury Povich style), you are NOT the mother!  You see, there is no way the REAL mother would allow her child be killed.  Even if it is sweeps week.  So I feel confident that I have made the correct decision.  Now, you crazy kids get out of here!

King Solomon gives his signature smile for the camera closeup and ending music plays followed by the credits.  Another successful show.


Now you are probably wondering why I told that COMPLETELY accurate story.  Well, after reading the story it made me understand one thing... I don't believe that King Solomon RAISED his own children.  He had a few of them but this "wisdom" wouldn't have worked on a 4-year old.  And it DEFINITELY wouldn't work on my 4-year old.  This is the same story but only with a 4-year old:

4-year old: That toy is mine!

2-year old: Mine, daddy!

KS: Now children... You know you should always tell the truth.  That's what good people do.  So if you want to grow up to be a good person and make something of yourselves you need to start with honesty.  Now... whose toy is this?

4YO: Mine!

2YO: Mine, daddy!

KS:  Ok. Fine.  We are going to have to do this the hard way!  Someone bring me the handsaw.  I'm going to cut this toy in half and FORCE you two to share or lose the toy.  What do you think about that?

4YO: Ok. Go ahead!

2YO: Mine, daddy!

KS: You see little ones... With my infinite wisdom I have just figured out whose toy this is.  This toy belongs to the 2YO.  If it belonged to you, 4YO, you wouldn't have given it up to slaughter as you have.  You wouldn't have allowed me to destroy something you love so much.  You would be willing to give it to your sister to make sure it didn't perish.  And now that I know this, you should tell the truth little one.  Whose toy is this?

4YO: Well, father... It's actually MY toy but I would rather see the toy destroyed than to have to share with my little sister.

KS: CRAP!   ... Where's your mother?

I don't know how it is in everyone else's house but that's the way it is in ours.  This happens almost daily.  Our 4YO would rather lose a toy (or anything else, for that matter) that she loves than to have to share it with her little sister.  Now I'm not going to say that Solomon wasn't wise because it was well documented that he was a wise king.  (That is, of course, if you don't count the whole taking of 700 wives and 300 more girlfriends.  There's NOTHING wise about that.  Men have a hard time keeping ONE woman happy.  I would hate to see the man that is disappointing 1000 of them at the same time.)

I just wonder how wise King Solomon would have been considered if he were dealing with children.

Cyberflu!!!

This might be the first time in the history of world that something like this has ever happened.  I have heard of catching a virus on your computer.  But I think I have received the first case of receiving a virus FROM my computer.

I really think I caught the flu reading this blog. I know, I know... It sounds ridiculous!  I can hardly believe it myself.  All I know is that I was feeling fine.  Then I read about a fellow blogger getting the flu during the Summer months.  And I thought to myself, "Man, that sucks!"  Then a few days later... BAM!!!!  I was sick.  Some may say it's coincidental or completely circumstantial evidence.  But to those people I just say that people used to think the world was flat. But look at it now!  And SOMEONE had to be the first to question the impossible.  (I know that doesn't mean anything toward my argument but I really can't prove what I believe.  So instead of an insightful debate, all you get is the equivalent of a digital tongue being stuck out in your general direction. :-P <----tongue).

Being sick and home alone with my 4-year old made me appreciate single parents more, though.  I don't know how single parents handle being sick with the kids at home.  I know you just have to deal with it but it has to be one of the toughest things ever.  That's even more so when the oldest child in the house is not old enough to take care of themselves let alone the other kids.  I only had one child at home. (The others were in school.  That's another post all together.) I had to spend the day with our 4-year old (did I mention crazy school schedules) and it was NOT fun at all.  First off, she kept putting me in timeout.  She would ask if I was still sick.  When I responded with a "yes" she would say, "No! No! No! You are NOT sick. Now go to timeout!"  If only it were that simple, sweetie. (Words I said as I was going to timeout.)

Secondly... As I'm battling this evil disease from the seventh layer of hell (men always exaggerate... everything), she wouldn't stop calling, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" until I acknowledged she was talking directly to me. I did understand that she was a little nervous.  She doesn't see daddy sick a lot so she didn't know how to react. Knowing that, I tried to not get frustrated or upset.  Plus, I couldn't even if I wanted.  In the state I was in, she could have easily taken me with what she learned for just her few lessons of Taekwondo.

But I am getting better.  I'm able to move, talk, breathe (almost without problems), and eat.  So all should be well.  I will be back to normal in no time.  Plus, I have to get better soon.  It's my wife's birthday tomorrow.  We, of course, are too broke to really do anything.  SO it would doubly suck if I was sick on top of that.  My best bet is to will myself well one way or another.  I really don't think I want to spend another minute in timeout.

Looks ARE Deceiving!

Some of you have been asking me to post some pics of the family.  I have been doing a terrible job of taking pics.  But my wife captured one I wanted to post.  Here is our 4-year old.  I know you are not going to believe it but this little "angel" is our terror!  She runs the house.  She has more fits than all of the rest of us combined (and that includes our almost 2-year old).

She is the one that was mentioned in these posts.

• Fatherly Advice to My Middle Child
• House FULL of Women!
• Where are the Penguin PJs?
• Houston... Wii have a problem
• The 4-Year Old Goes From Student to Master
• A conversation you don't hear when you have less than 2 small children

I know after reading these you are not going to believe that I'm talking about the 4-year old in the pic.  But trust me... Looks ARE Deceiving!

Sometimes Celebrations are Quiet

I wanted to write a short post that steps away from the funny for a moment.  While most wrote about the 4th of July, my story happened the day before.  My 4-year old daughter doesn't like fireworks.  Actually, it's not limited to fireworks.  She just doesn't like loud sounds in general (unless, of course, SHE is the one making the loud sound).  So twice a year things get interesting at our house.  We really can't go anywhere or do anything fireworks related as a family.

Another odd thing about the 4-year old is that she has NEVER been the hugging, kissing or otherwise affection showing type of child.  She has been that way since birth.  So we have just learned to live with it. As she's gotten older she has eased off of her no "hug and kiss" rule but just barely.  And really, I think the only reason she does it now is because the little one doesn't have a problem with it.  And if the little one has or does something, then the middle one MUST have or do as well! It's the sibling law.

I gave you that background information because it gives more meaning as to why July 3rd, 2010 was a special night.  My wife took the oldest and the youngest to a neighbors house a few subdivisions away for some pre-holiday fireworks.  And I decided to stay home with the middle child because she wasn't going outside AT ALL.  Not with all of that loud "noise".

The fireworks were in the distance so my daughter was just a little bit uncomfortable.  So we decided to play the Wii.  We jumped.  We ran.  We played.  Anything to keep her mind off of the fireworks.  When we had finished playing all of the games she wanted to play she said she wanted to watch a movie.  Monsters, Inc. was on so I let her watch that.  She also wanted to watch the movie in "Daddy and Mommy's Bed".  That is her place of safety and comfort when there is thunder and lightning outside so obviously it works for fireworks as well.  Apparently, the magic works whether the parents are in the bed or not... at least that's what she thought.

I decided to do some (very) minor cleaning in the living room since we had just destroyed it playing games.  And I couldn't have been cleaning for more than 3 minutes or so when it began.  The "close" neighbors started shooting fireworks.  Knowing what I know, I sat down on the couch to see what my daughter was going to do.  Within a few seconds of the REALLY loud pops, I see this little ball of hair poke up from behind the love seat.  It was moving very slow and unsure.  Then the next set of fireworks: BAM!!! BOOM!!! POW!!! That's when I hear very quietly...

"Daddy...."

"Yes..."

"Daddy... I'm scary." (That means "I'm scared" for those who don't live in our home.)

"Do you want to finish watching the movie?"

"No, I want to sit with you."

With that statement, she quickly walked over to me, climbed on my lap and laid her head down on my chest. (Again, for those who don't live in our home... this NEVER happens.)  So I wrapped my arms around her to give her the protection that she can only get from her father.  And there we sat for almost an hour.  Few words were spoken.  In retrospect... What really needed to be said?

Most of the time I find the funny in life.  But there are moments where other emotions take over and demand that their power be respected.  And while the rest of the country was loudly celebrating our founding father's decision to become a free and independent nation, I was quietly celebrating my decision to become a father.

The 4-Year Old Goes from Student to Master

That day started out like any other.  Nothing really special.  But somewhere between Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (Oh, Toodles) in the morning and the reading of Bad Kitty for the 423rd time (even though I like that book)... something happened.

To the casual observer, that day was as normal as the rising and setting of the sun.  But, I'm not a casual observer (I mean, I am... but not for the sake of this story) and this was NO normal day (grammatical error intended).  For those who missed it, I experienced a game-changer in the Father/Daughter relationship.

First off, my 4-year targeted me.  I was minding my own business.  I was just being a good father.  I was thinking of my beautiful wife and kids and what I can do to enrich their lives (Do you believe that?).  Then there was this sweet little voice... "Daddy, I wanna play the ballgame." (for those not living in our house, that is Wii Bowling)  "I wanna pick 2." (again... for y'all (oh, yeah... I threw some Southern in there) that meant she wanted ME to play so there would be 2 people playing).

So we start bowling...  Everything is like it should be.  She bowled a 9-Spare.  I bowled a Strike (now that's what I'm talking about.  I'm technically winning)!  She then bowled a strike.  And I bowled an 8-Spare.  So we are tied now (technically she has the advantage at this point).  Then she makes the normal mistake of opening a frame (didn't knock down all 10 pens).  This is usually where I take control and ride this horsey to victory!  So I bowled an 8-Spare and felt pretty confident that the turning point in the game had just happened in the 3rd frame.  Well, it had.  Just not like I expected.  Here is where little Ms. Sneaky-pants pulled off the greatest "upset" since the Giants beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl.  Or since I found out they were cancelling Jericho.  Or EVEN since finding out the Flava Flav had any kind of TV show (especially one with women fighting for his love... WHAT???).

She started bowling strike, after strike, after strike...  It wasn't even funny anymore.  I would tell you the score but I passed out around the 7th frame when I knew I could no longer beat her.  I had already blocked it out of my memory by the end of the game until the little snot (and I say that with all of the love and affection than can be taken from that word) pulled her next move... "Daddy, take a picture." WHAT THE... Wait!  Take a picture???  For what?  Are you planning on framing the picture and putting it on one of those little motivational "FAIL" posters with sayings under it like: "When it comes to Wii Bowling... 35 is the new 3!" or "Daddy, bowling is not like baseball.  You are SUPPOSED to get strikes!"

I will NOT have that!  I am the MOTH!

She finally beat me for the first time. She also baited me.  She also hustled me. I didn't play her again for about a week.  She had gotten good but didn't let me know it.  And to add insult to injury, when I DID start playing her again, she would do the same thing.  She would play bad against her mom and sister but when it was time to play me she would get out some bowling shoes, a wrist brace, a monogrammed bowling shirt and a headband with the logo of her sponsor, Nike, stitched on it.

Since that day she has really stomped me a few times (including this one that she made me take a picture of while we were in Florida - I'll let you guess who is who).  If y'all (South again) were to watch her you would think she is just being an adorable, innocent little 4-year old that just has a knack for play Wii Bowling.  I'm not even going to try to convince you otherwise.  She's too good at what she does (not that you would believe me anyway).  But I will tell you this...I know better.  I know what her role is in the family dynamics as well as mine.  And right now, my goal is to show her that I will NOT be someone's motivational "FAIL" poster.

Houston... Wii have a problem

I have done a lot of hard things in my life.  I had to stand up to the neighborhood bullies (in the neighborhood I grew up in there were several (and I think they worked in shifts to make sure every hour was covered)).  I learned how to divide and multiply fractions (a skill that is coming in handy when helping my oldest with her homework).  I have even had to be in the room while my wife was giving birth. (Side note on the child birth experience... That is one thing that looks COMPLETELY different on TV than it is in real life.  Don't get me wrong... it is a beautiful and wonderful thing... in theory.  I'm just gonna leave it at that.)

But I survived all of those and many more things with only minor scars (minus the whole birthin' thing.  It takes a lifetime to measure the full effects of this one). I have even learned to take some of the proverbial lemons and make some proverbial lemonade.  And in some cases, I have taken the lemons, sliced them up a squeezed them into some much nicer drinks!  Those cases are rare but they do happen.

Now more recently, I have undertaken something that, at first glance, I thought was going to be easy.  I was mistaken to the nth degree.  I have 2 equations for you: E=MC(squared) (I would have put the little 2 in the correct position but apparently the equation is too tough even for blogger.com) and the other equation is HB+Sy@b+Sy@f+LGoB=X.

The first one is Einstein's famous Mass-Energy Equivalence theory.  Basically, the theory states that Energy (E) is the product of Mass (M) times ((the Speed of Light (C) times the Speed of Light (C)) in a vacuum).  Now see how easy that was?  And even if you don't get it you will soon get the point to what I am writing about.  You wouldn't think of trying to explain this equation to a 4-year old.  But I promise you I would have had more luck explaining THAT to the 4-year old than the second equation.

Here is the second equation explained: HB+S@b+S@f+LGoB=X.  (It's a lot scarier on paper than it is in real life.)  That stands for Hold the B-button + Swing your arm back + Swing your arm forward + Let Go of the B-button = Strike.  For those that don't have a Wii, that is the simple formula for rolling the ball in Wii Bowling.  At least I thought it was simple until I tried to get my 4-year old to understand it.

We had a blast with the boxing game.  Just punch left and right as fast as you can.  We even had fun with the baseball game.  All you do is swing your arm to throw and swing your arm to swing.  She didn't hit the ball, BUT WHO CARES!?!  It was fun.  Wii laughed.  Wii played. Wii enjoyed ourselves... until...

Wii Bowling!!!  There was a lot of WHOOMP!  That's the sound of the ball not being "rolled" properly.  There was a lot of "I can't do it, daddy!" That's the sound of a 4-year old getting frustrated because she keeps getting the WHOOMP sound.  Then came a lot of "Let's just play something else!"  That's the sound of daddy giving up on the second equation because he is tired of hearing the 4-year old say she can't do it when she keeps WHOOMP sound (OVER and OVER and OVER again)!

Now I did my due diligence.  I tried every possible way to explain how the bowling thing works.  It just wasn't sinking in.  She had the swinging arm part just fine.  It was that stupid B-button!  It was digging grooves in both of our souls (for different reasons, of course).  My only solution to this problem was to hold her hand while she was bowling.  This made her go all Exorcist on me.  She couldn't understand why I was showing her how to swing her arm.  She had that part.  But I was trying to explain to her that I had to move her arm so "Wii" could press and let go of the B-button at the right time.

Finally, that sank in.  Wii were bowling in no time flat.  A strike here.  A spare there.  It was great.  But this created another problem.  She decided that she wouldn't ever try on her own.  I had unknowingly become her right arm. So when I wouldn't help her there were even MORE "I can't do it" daddies than ever before.  Daddy had to help her or this B-Button would defeat her.

This story has a happy ending (sorta).  We defeated the evil B-button!  It took a while but the deed was done.  I would like to think we were better people because it but in the end it was just a game on the Wii.  For some reason, however, I personally feel that I have given her another tool to be successful in life (she can add that lesson to THIS one as well as THIS OTHER one).  It's like teaching her to tie her shoes... only electronically... and with a Wiimote.  OK. It's not really like teaching her to tie her shoes but this is my moment.  You look at it how you choose to.  But in the end she will never be afraid of the B-button or any other button for that matter.  And I will always be able to look back at this shared moment and say that Wii did it.

But next time... I'm teaching her physics.  It has no B-button.

Teaching a 4-year Old a Lesson They Will Never Forget

I am writing this post from timeout.  My crime?  I told a 3-year old that she couldn't have any more Cheerios.  I'm not completely sure when this became a punishable offense, but it has.  I did the crime. Now, I'm doin' the time!

I guess the denying a 3-year old of Cheerios is a Class-A felony because I haven't even been told how long I am to stay in here.  And every time I try to leave the little timeout chair I get yelled at and time added to my sentence (I'm not sure about the time being added but if denying Cheerios is a Class-A felony then I'm sure trying to escape is at least a Class-B).

Since I've been sitting here I've had time to think...  Whatever happened to old school discipline?  There is no drug powerful enough to make me imagine a scenario where I would have been able to put my mom into timeout.  My mouth is hurting just thinking of slap I would have received for letting that thought go through my head.

Today's parent has to be more creative than my parent's generation.  Tools and Techniques they used are shunned in today's society. Their forms of punishment were not creative.  They were not pretty.  But BOY were they effective!

**DISCLAIMER** - I am not condoning nor condemning the "Tools" and "Techniques" in my post.  I think each child is different.  And one thing that works for one child may not work on another.  With that said.... here is my story.

My mother was the disciplinarian in the house.  She learned from the absolute best (my grandmother).  With the power to punish she also had the power to make the rules (attorney, judge and jury all rolled into one (kinda Andy Griffith style))

This particular day we were going through the local Big-K (This was not a BIG K-Mart.  The store was just called Big-K).  And like any other 4-year old, I wanted to go down the toy aisle.  My mother said no (because we were very poor when I was little and couldn't afford such things).  Usually, that's the end of it.  It WAS the end of it for the moment.  But life had other plans.  I was about to learn a lesson that can only be taught through experience (as in my friends blog title).

All was well while we went around the store.  Then right before we left, we passed the toy aisle.  I asked again and this time my mom gave in.  In retrospect, I don't know if she gave in because she felt sad that she would never be able to get me the toy and she wanted me to have 5 minutes of happiness instead of none... OR... she really just wanted to teach me a lesson that day.  She let me go but explained to me that we didn't have any money and I was to not ask for anything.  I agreed.

So I went down the aisle playing with all of the toys like it was Christmas and Santa accidentally dropped off everything at my house (Thanks Santa)!  But then I saw it.  A sliver of light began to shine on it like GOD was pointing to it as if to say, "This ones for you, little one."  In retrospect... I'm not sure if GOD (being the gracious and loving GOD) was doing this because I was from a poor family and would never be able to play with this toy under any other circumstances... OR he had the same lesson planned as my mother!  But there it stood... the 12 inch tall G.I. Joe action figure (doll).  AND I WANTED IT!!!

So I asked nicely if I could have it.  And my mother nicely told me no.  Then she reminded me of that EVIL pact I agreed to that said I could go down the aisle as long as I didn't ask for anything.  I was 4 so didn't remember back that far (3:47 seconds ago).  At that point the issue escalated.  I found myself breaking family rule number 1.  It had been passed down for ages.  My grandmother said it every time we went into public.  My mother agreed with it and refined it.  But family rule number 1 is "Don't show your @ss!" It was a very simple rule.  It was a easy to understand.  You didn't need a lawyer to interpret it.  You ALWAYS knew what it meant.  So what did I do... I showed my @ss!  In retrospect... It had to be done.  I was learning my lesson.

I yelled.  I screamed.  I kicked.  I rolled around on the floor.  My performance was truly Oscar worthy.  My mother's performance wasn't what I expected.  She didn't yell.  She didn't scream.  As a matter of fact, she didn't say much.  That doesn't mean she wasn't up for the same Oscar.  It just meant that she was the real star.  Her silence spoke volumes.  My 4-year old ears just couldn't hear it.  She let me continue my performance on up to the check-out line.  That whole time I was showing out, I didn't realize that my mother was setting the stage.

When it was her turn to pay, she told the woman behind the register to hold on for one minute.  I stopped crying because I thought I had won!  I thought I had worn her down.  I thought she was giving in and was going to get me the G.I. Joe I just had to have.... That wasn't the case.

She calmly grabbed my hand and took me in front of the registers.  She proceded to pull down my pants... AND my Superman Underoos (even the Man-of-Steel couldn't help me today).  In my head, I was thinking she's breaking family rule #1 by LITERALLY showing my backside.  In her head, she was teaching.  She gave me a bare-butt spanking in front of everyone in BIG-K.  Even GOD turned off the G.I. Joe light as if to say the rod was not spared this day. Game... Set... and... MATCH.

Some of you might be reading this saying that was barbaric.  But as I said before, it was EXTREMELY effective!  I never asked for another toy at a store... EVER.  I never showed my backside in public like that again... EVER.  As a matter of fact, 30+ years later, I'm STILL quiet when I go into Wal-Mart with my mom.  If she asks me if I want something I always say "No Ma'am." 

After that day, I didn't even like G.I. Joe anymore.  All of my friends wondered why I didn't watch that cartoon growing up.  Well, there it is.  G.I. Joe was not the same after that.  The G.I. Joe movie came out earlier this year.  As good as it looked, I just couldn't bring myself to go to the theater to watch it.

Life-Long Lesson Learned: The 4 "L"s.

Well, it looks like I'm about to be released from timeout for good behavior.  At least that's what she's telling me.  But I really think it's because she just said she's hungry in her tummy.  Either way, peanut butter and jelly is a reasonable price to pay for freedom.