Kindergarten Rockstar
Ahhh, to be young again. Yesterday, at Kindergarten pick-up, each child who walked out of the building joined in the cry of "Mr. C lost a tooth!". By the time the entire class had made it out the door, the chorus was deafening. So, apparently, this was huge news. (And it is a much better cry than the one they chorale'd a few weeks ago during pick-up: "Kathryn threw up!")
Mr. C had the good sense to wait and lose his tooth as the kids were lining up to leave: that's what seems to make the biggest impression on the children, and leads to popularity spikes. Good thinking, Mr. C!
He waited so long to lose his tooth, as a matter of fact, that he didn't even make it outside with the rest of the kids. Instead, I had to walk down to the nurse's office to pick him up. Why a lost tooth warrants a trip to the nurse's office is beyond me, except he received this awesome swag:
Tooth firmly contained in the container, Mr. C proudly wore it around his neck for the rest of the day.
He was flying so high on his good fortune, Mr. C was reluctant to part with his tooth at the end of the day. Avarice, however, won out, and he decided he'd rather get the shiny gold dollar than keep his tooth. (He also decided to leave the Tooth Fairy a few grimy pennies under his pillow; why, I don't know, but I told myself it's because he's sensitive and appreciative . . . and that it wasn't an attempt at bribery.)
And here's where I was met with another moral dilemma, one that rears its ugly head often: how to raise my child happy without spoiling him. He so wanted to keep that tooth, and it's not as if The Tooth Fairy needs any more hidden in the basket by the side of her bed, so what's the harm in letting him keep it? AND he was willing to sacrifice it for a measly dollar, and it's so fun to find a gold coin under your pillow in the morning, so what's the harm in letting him keep that, too? If I let my child have both the tooth and the dollar, am I giving him a wonderfully special day he'll always appreciate, or am I creating a spoiled brat who will grow up feeling entitled to whatever he wants?
I have the same quandary with his toothpaste: he currently has Jake and the Neverland Pirates gracing the tube. Before that, he had Dora, and -- before that -- it was Veggie Tales. And part of me thinks: what's the harm in a little cartoon commercialism on his toothpaste tube? But the other part of me points out that I grew up with plain old Crest: no matter how much I begged for it, toothpaste and band aids and underwear with licensed characters on them were not something that our family spent the money on.
Granted, there were three kids in my family: if my parents had bought Barbie toothpaste for me, they'd have had to given in to My Little Pony underwear for my sister and Transformer bandages for my brother. And, as any parent on a budget can tell you, name-brand characters are ridiculously more-expensive than generic ones. Now, if you're occasionally buying just one tube of toothpaste or the odd packet of band aids, this isn't such a big deal. But, when one must multiply each item by three kids, it gets expensive. Sure, sure: my parents should have just made my brother and sister stick to generic when they bought me name-brand, but I guess they were trying to hide the fact that I was their favorite child. (But why should I have to suffer for that?)
I can really see where "only-child syndrome" comes down to a matter of numbers. I can look at those $2-extra Flinstone vitamins and say, "Why not?"; my mother had to look at them and say, "Because I have three kids, and therefore three times the expenses." Plus, of course, parents of multiple kids would then have to keep each child's items completely separate and to deal with the increased fighting when "she touched my Paw Patrol shampoo!" These are not concerns of mine.
However, I will have to stay up nights agonizing over whether a tooth AND a gold coin will lead my child down a selfish path that will cause him to spurn all his friends, break off ties with his family, and will eventually end with him in prison for armed robbery and/or drug use.
As it was, the Tooth Fairy left him a note -- along with the tooth and gold coin -- telling him he could keep both items because he'd done so well on his math program yesterday. So, if it leads my child down a destructive path, it's her fault.
Mr. C had the good sense to wait and lose his tooth as the kids were lining up to leave: that's what seems to make the biggest impression on the children, and leads to popularity spikes. Good thinking, Mr. C!
He waited so long to lose his tooth, as a matter of fact, that he didn't even make it outside with the rest of the kids. Instead, I had to walk down to the nurse's office to pick him up. Why a lost tooth warrants a trip to the nurse's office is beyond me, except he received this awesome swag:
Tooth firmly contained in the container, Mr. C proudly wore it around his neck for the rest of the day.
He was flying so high on his good fortune, Mr. C was reluctant to part with his tooth at the end of the day. Avarice, however, won out, and he decided he'd rather get the shiny gold dollar than keep his tooth. (He also decided to leave the Tooth Fairy a few grimy pennies under his pillow; why, I don't know, but I told myself it's because he's sensitive and appreciative . . . and that it wasn't an attempt at bribery.)
And here's where I was met with another moral dilemma, one that rears its ugly head often: how to raise my child happy without spoiling him. He so wanted to keep that tooth, and it's not as if The Tooth Fairy needs any more hidden in the basket by the side of her bed, so what's the harm in letting him keep it? AND he was willing to sacrifice it for a measly dollar, and it's so fun to find a gold coin under your pillow in the morning, so what's the harm in letting him keep that, too? If I let my child have both the tooth and the dollar, am I giving him a wonderfully special day he'll always appreciate, or am I creating a spoiled brat who will grow up feeling entitled to whatever he wants?
Granted, there were three kids in my family: if my parents had bought Barbie toothpaste for me, they'd have had to given in to My Little Pony underwear for my sister and Transformer bandages for my brother. And, as any parent on a budget can tell you, name-brand characters are ridiculously more-expensive than generic ones. Now, if you're occasionally buying just one tube of toothpaste or the odd packet of band aids, this isn't such a big deal. But, when one must multiply each item by three kids, it gets expensive. Sure, sure: my parents should have just made my brother and sister stick to generic when they bought me name-brand, but I guess they were trying to hide the fact that I was their favorite child. (But why should I have to suffer for that?)
I can really see where "only-child syndrome" comes down to a matter of numbers. I can look at those $2-extra Flinstone vitamins and say, "Why not?"; my mother had to look at them and say, "Because I have three kids, and therefore three times the expenses." Plus, of course, parents of multiple kids would then have to keep each child's items completely separate and to deal with the increased fighting when "she touched my Paw Patrol shampoo!" These are not concerns of mine.
However, I will have to stay up nights agonizing over whether a tooth AND a gold coin will lead my child down a selfish path that will cause him to spurn all his friends, break off ties with his family, and will eventually end with him in prison for armed robbery and/or drug use.
As it was, the Tooth Fairy left him a note -- along with the tooth and gold coin -- telling him he could keep both items because he'd done so well on his math program yesterday. So, if it leads my child down a destructive path, it's her fault.
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