Gingerbread Houses and Acorns

Marlie came home from her half day at school yesterday with a FABULOUS gingerbread house! I was so excited and I think the fact that I started snapping pictures of it and her made her even more proud of her masterpiece.

She informed me that there was a milk carton with graham crackers hot glued to it, but not to worry because the glue was cold now - and then she put her icing on and decorated it completely by herself. Then also pointed out the path, the fence, the windows, and the front door :) So proud . . .

And now on to the story portion of this blog post - my life lesson that I am turning into a fable, because it seemed so applicable and appropriate. This morning as I was getting ready and Marlie came up to ask where her acorns were (she has a bag that she collected from her Grandma's backyard and she likes to periodically disperse the wealth and share with the squirrels). I thought for a second about just saying I didn't remember or telling them to find them herself . . . but then I explained where they were. Thus began my mental spiral . . . I have them often - I don't know if my mind was originally programmed to have them, or if I have a degree in Philosophy to thank - either way, I just go with them . . . and thus, I went with this one and decided since it was an acorn, a fable type antectdote seemed appropriate with a lesson at the end . . . feel free to continue reading with the disclaimer that your mind will spiral at the end as well . . .

As a parent, you watch your child collect several things throughout their stages - for example, acorns. Now, children being children, will often misplace things. Thus, when it comes time to find their acorns, you have several options depending on your mood. You can either A. Tell them where the acorns are and hope that someday they will learn to put their acorns in a safe place and remember it. B. Tell them to go look for them C. Tell them you don't know where they are or can't remember and maybe you will look for them later. I tend to choose option A 99% of the time . . . but in questioning myself this morning and wondering why I choose option A, I discovered the serious and heinous consequences of options B and C. You see, it might not be the first or second time you don't know where something is, but eventually, if you go with options B and C enough, what do you think your child will figure out? Oh, Mom doesn't know where everything is . . . Mom can't find everything in this house . . . I bet if I had something I wasn't supposed to have, I could probably put it someplace and Mom would never know about it . . . and BAM next thing you know that acorn is a pack of cigarettes or something perhaps a little more illegal or distasteful . . . Yes, yes, this is actually how my mind works. And what else do you think I thought of?! The very first thing I hid from my mother of course . . . a totally rad Beavis and Butthead pin (because in no way, shape, or form was I supposed to be watching that shit when my age was in the single digits!).

The lesson: For as long as is humanly possible, it will be in everyone's best interests if the household operates under the assumption that Mom is an omniscient power that can find any acorn, at any given moment, on any person, or in any space in the house . . . so just tell them where the acorns are . . . and if you can't remember, start making up spots at random and go searching in the other direction . . . because you can't really be omniscient . . . though I think mothers/wives are closer to achieving that goal than anyone else in the universe . . .