The Ways In Which We Damage Our Children
Mr. C has lost so many teeth, I can't remember if he's on number 6 or number 8. Which is odd: I don't remember even starting to lose teeth until I was in first grade; so he obviously didn't get that from me.
Sadly, what he DID get from me is the size of his front teeth:
This is an unfortunate event, as I've never liked how big those two teeth are. (To add insult to injury, imagine my thrill at having a dental professional describe my teeth as "bulbous." [She must have missed the "bedside manner" day in How To Be A Great Hygienist class.])
I am doubly-sad that Mr. C has inherited my teeth, as this obviously means he will inherit my dental problems. Look forward to years of braces and permanent retainers, kid; you're welcome!
All this has made me think about the other ways I have unintentionally influenced my child and changed the course of his life path. I'm a big believer in the idea that it's entirely possible to have a certain thing happen at a certain minute when you're in a certain mood which pushes you towards a certain decision for the rest of your life. (Example? As I procrastinated doing my second-grade homework at our dining room table, I ate almonds I'd set in an empty scented-oil warmer. I was halfway through my snack, staring out the window instead of at my math worksheet, when I realized I was feeling nauseous. It was only then that I realized there were still traces of perfumy oil in my "nut dish". Although I finished off my snack, I've never trusted almonds since.)
So here's the thing:
Will Mr. C only want to date women with frigid hands because that's what his loving mother touched him with?
Will he get nervous having his hair finger-combed because that's the buffer his mother used between herself and awkward social situations?
Will he grow up feeling guilty every time he doesn't like something because Bee informed him that a baby bunny dies every time he says the word "hate"?
Even thousands of miles away, will he immediately crave junk food when he hears his dad is going out of town?
(And, concurrently, will he assume a woman's sudden and shocking weight gain means her husband left for the week?)
Will "Leavin' On A Jet Plane" plunge him into depression because he'd tear up as a baby when I sang it to him (so, naturally, I'd sing it a lot)?
As an adult, will he only eat Wonder Bread because I forced him to eat tough, homemade, whole-wheat bread his entire child-life?
Will he have a poor sense of time because I often tell him I'll play with him in "just one minute" before promptly getting distracted on the computer for half an hour?
Will he be disturbed because the song "I'm Sexy And I Know It" makes him think of his father, and he doesn't know why?
Will he get excited when he hears the words "Salvation" and "Army"?
Will he not be able to sleep deeply until a woman has snuck into his bedroom while he's dozing and kissed him on the forehead?
Sadly, what he DID get from me is the size of his front teeth:
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| What's up, Doc? |
This is an unfortunate event, as I've never liked how big those two teeth are. (To add insult to injury, imagine my thrill at having a dental professional describe my teeth as "bulbous." [She must have missed the "bedside manner" day in How To Be A Great Hygienist class.])
I am doubly-sad that Mr. C has inherited my teeth, as this obviously means he will inherit my dental problems. Look forward to years of braces and permanent retainers, kid; you're welcome!
All this has made me think about the other ways I have unintentionally influenced my child and changed the course of his life path. I'm a big believer in the idea that it's entirely possible to have a certain thing happen at a certain minute when you're in a certain mood which pushes you towards a certain decision for the rest of your life. (Example? As I procrastinated doing my second-grade homework at our dining room table, I ate almonds I'd set in an empty scented-oil warmer. I was halfway through my snack, staring out the window instead of at my math worksheet, when I realized I was feeling nauseous. It was only then that I realized there were still traces of perfumy oil in my "nut dish". Although I finished off my snack, I've never trusted almonds since.)
So here's the thing:
Will Mr. C only want to date women with frigid hands because that's what his loving mother touched him with?
Will he get nervous having his hair finger-combed because that's the buffer his mother used between herself and awkward social situations?
Will he grow up feeling guilty every time he doesn't like something because Bee informed him that a baby bunny dies every time he says the word "hate"?
Even thousands of miles away, will he immediately crave junk food when he hears his dad is going out of town?
(And, concurrently, will he assume a woman's sudden and shocking weight gain means her husband left for the week?)
Will "Leavin' On A Jet Plane" plunge him into depression because he'd tear up as a baby when I sang it to him (so, naturally, I'd sing it a lot)?
As an adult, will he only eat Wonder Bread because I forced him to eat tough, homemade, whole-wheat bread his entire child-life?
Will he have a poor sense of time because I often tell him I'll play with him in "just one minute" before promptly getting distracted on the computer for half an hour?
Will he be disturbed because the song "I'm Sexy And I Know It" makes him think of his father, and he doesn't know why?
Will he get excited when he hears the words "Salvation" and "Army"?
Will he not be able to sleep deeply until a woman has snuck into his bedroom while he's dozing and kissed him on the forehead?
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