Apparently,
the first book I ever read by myself was Fox in Socks, which explains my lack
of verbal communication skills. The second book I read by myself was Frog and
Toad are Friends, which explains my homoerotic fascination with amphibians.
Children’s
books are an intriguing area. Ever
look at the back of Where the Sidewalk Ends? That Shell Silverstein was one scary dude! You have to wonder if The Giving Tree
was based on some guy named “Tree” doling out cigarettes in the yard in between
sets on the bench press.
Anyway, incarceration
jokes aside, The Giving Tree is brilliant—in both its presentation and in its
elegance. It is the simple,
engaging conveyance of a strong moral message. That is what a good children’s book is all about.
And then
there is Pinkalicious. At first I
thought I didn’t like it because of the association of “Bootylicious” and my two-year-old
daughter (no offence, Beyonce… just put some pants on in front of my kids). And
maybe our first nanny’s attempt to nickname our youngest daughter
“Tessalicious” (which thankfully did not stick, much in part to my icy cold
reception). But upon further
thought, it is the story itself that really pisses me off.
First, this
kid blatantly disregards her parents’ demands and sneaks downstairs to steal
more cupcakes. She perches herself dangerously high on
an assortment of kitchen items stacked on a chair, to reach the top of the
refrigerator. I somehow doubt OSHA approved this book. My first thought was that this
encourages dishonesty, deception, and reckless behavior. But kids will be kids.
Secondly, to
remedy the effect of too many cupcakes (she turns pink… I’ll save you the
$17.99), she eats a bunch of green vegetables and fruit. She “gags down grapes”, eats “icky” relish
and gross spinach. In other words
she is choking down the very things we as parents are trying to get our kids to
eat. Thanks for the headwind,
Pinkalicious. Also, who hates grapes? Or relish for that matter?
But this was
the kicker: In an effort to curb her desire to shove even more pink cupcakes
down her gullet, her mother replied, “You get what you get and you don’t get
upset.” Fine. Whatever. Maybe that works with denying kids all
of the unhealthy things they crave and with halting their incessant requests.
BUT… the
other day, Claire and I were playing the Wii. After a few frames of trying to knock pins down in the
adjacent lanes (has anyone ever been able to do this? Let me know if it’s
possible), we decided to salvage our ranking and get serious. On the next frame Claire knocked down 9
pins and then missed the spare.
“Oh well,” she said, “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset!”
I got
upset. “What!?” I was confused and horrified at the
same time. “No!” I said sternly. I wanted to shout, “God damn you,
Pinkalicious!” but it somehow came out as, “That is absolutely not correct!”
Now I am not
one of those psycho sports dads who blurs the line between his family’s
financial future and the athletic success of his children (yet…), but I think a
little healthy competition is completely appropriate. And I recognize that there is a difference between
challenging authority and challenging yourself, but I am not 4. I understand (but don’t necessarily
agree with) not keeping score in first-year soccer and baseball leagues. And I certainly appreciate the fact
that we want to encourage honesty, hard work, sportsmanship, fair play and a love-of-the-game.
But the
world is a crazy place. Life is competition. So maybe we don’t have to hunt and
gather our own food anymore, but if we expect to attain a certain standard of
living, then we need to earn it.
And that means, competing, being evaluated and succeeding. It’s ok to
fail, but you don’t have to accept it.
Don’t take what you get. Do
get upset. Make mistakes, extract
the lessons, and discard the rest.
Learn from every opportunity.
And, oh
yeah… grapes taste great.
Let’s hear
some comments about this.
