caerula's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

speak softly and ...?

You know those moments when you realize you�ve become your parents? I�ve had several of those this week. Except that my mom never had to deal with boys and their unique logic.

YMB has discovered a group of kids in the neighborhood who play street hockey. He�s been out pretty much every night this week that I will let him with these guys. He was mad at me Tuesday night because I wouldn�t let him play in the street after dark. So Thursday he came in around 6 all pissy, flinging his stick and helmet down and stomping around.

�What�s up?�
�Blake hit me in the leg with his stick!�
�And �?� I mean, this is a game played with sticks. Stands to reason someone might get hit by one.
�He did it on purpose!�
�How do you know?�
Adroitly avoiding the question: �Anyway, that�s not even what I�m mad about!� Silly me. What was I thinking, assuming just because that�s what he's ranting about that�s what he was mad about.
�Ok, I�ll bite. What are you mad about?�
�Jordan hit me!�
�I thought Blake hit you?�
�Blake hit me with his STICK, and then I kicked him, and then Jordan hit me!� Sigh. Now I know how all those fights get started at hockey games.
�Well, why did you kick Blake?�
�He HIT me, I TOLD you!�
�You know he was probably not actually trying to hurt you. Do you think that kicking him was really an appropriate response? �
�Yes!�
�Ok. So if you think it was ok to kick Blake, then why is it not ok for Jordan to hit you?�
�He�s not even on our TEAM!�
I�m getting the eye roll at this point. Like, how dumb am I, not to grasp what is upsetting about all this. And really, all I can think is, well, what do you expect when you play a game with big sticks? YMB is not bleeding, apparently no one else is bleeding, and they�ve been whacking at each other with sticks all week.
So, my advice to YMB is, �Well, in my opinion, if you don�t want to ever get hit, I wouldn�t suggest hockey as your game of choice. Don�t play with guys that are going to hit you. Don't make a big issue of it unless you're really hurt. And don�t hit back.�
Exasperated: �I didn�t HIT Blake, I KICKED him.�
Oh, well in that case. Completely different.

Now I know the next bit will make absolutely no sense to a nine-year-old boy, but I feel it�s my parental duty to say it anyway. �Look, YMB, you know that any kind of violence directed at another person is not acceptable, right?� Sullen nod. �When you�re playing sports, you need to understand that the other guy isn't usually trying to hurt you personally. It might be an accident. But if you feel like someone is attacking you, you need to walk away from the situation.�
Inevitably: �Then I�d get called a wussy!�
�Would you rather get beat up on, or hurt someone else?�
He considers it. I can actually see the wheels spinning. Will he be in more trouble if he says yes? He decides to risk it. �Yeah.�
�Well, if you make the decision to start whacking on someone, you really can�t get upset when someone else comes to their defense, can you?�
�But Jordan�s not even on Blake�s TEAM!�
Ah. Apparently it would have been ok if one of Blake's teammates had entered the fray, but Jordan was supposed to be on YMB's side. He just didn't like YMB kicking his friend. Imagine that.
This is the point where I decide retreat is the better part of valor, and call in my backup.
�YMB, I think you need to talk to your dad about this. The only thing I know to tell you, is don�t play with guys who you either feel the need to wail on, or who are going to wail on you. If you decide to do that, then you really don't have anything to complain about when someone gets hit. Or, you know, don�t play games with big sticks involved.�

YMB and Blue had a nice long talk. Blue played high school football, and has played on several local hockey leagues. So I�m guessing he had some more manly and sportsmanlike wisdom to offer. Me, I�m thinking �don�t play games with big sticks� is pretty good advice.


Saw a really decent college production of �Lend Me a Tenor� tonight; Minnie was the stage manager, so Mom and I were kind of obligated to show our support. Every male part was played with great aplomb; however the two main female parts seem to have been cast more for how they looked in their underwear than any actual acting ability. The guys acted rings around the girls in this one. Still, I laughed, and both �tenors� were great with the physical comedy bits, so that definitely made it watchable. I�m hanging out with Minnie in the afternoon tomorrow, so I�m sure I�ll get all the backstage gossip, and that�s always entertaining.


My family is still insane, in case any of you were wondering. People are annoying purely for the sake of annoying other people; people are stupid; people don�t communicate and get pissy and act like 5-year-olds. And do stupid things like quit their jobs so that they�ll have more time to concentrate on getting their pilot�s license. Really. The actual kindergartners in the family are more mature. The point I�m at now is pretty much that I wish them the best. Because I don�t feel any connection anymore with what half of these people are doing. But somehow Mom and I always end up dishing the dirt on Dad�s side of the family when we are together, and I end up knowing more than I really want to know. Sigh.

12:26 a.m. - April 06, 2003

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries: