Just When You Think There’s a Glimmer of Hope…

“Ah, Dad…  I’m actually 11 now.  Yeah, I turned 11 on my birthday.  In September?  I’m not 10, I’m 11.”  Mark and Will had gone to the sporting goods store to check out compound bows.  Will and I had been in a couple days before, and Will wanted his dad’s opinion on the bows we had talked about.  And since I’m completely clueless on the subject, it was a good idea to get another opinion, even if it was Mark’s.  So they are talking to the sales guy, asking all the pertinent questions, and Mark says, “What type of bow would you recommend for a 10 year old?”  Will later told me that even after he’d corrected his dad, Mark treated him like, “Geez, buddy, I’m your dad.  You think I don’t know how old you are?  Of course, I know how old my own son is.”

Will was pretty disgusted by the time he got home.  So much so, in fact, that he fired off an email to his dad.  The email said this:

“Today you were talking to the guy that was helping us with the archery and you said, ‘Do you have any compound bows for a ten yr old?’   By the way I’m eleven and since you are my dad I expect you to remember how old I am, and I especially do right now because I just had my birthday.”

I admit that I thought Will was overreacting a bit.  I’m often asking the kids to give me a break.  I explain that my ‘filing cabinets’ are jammed.  The manila file folders are tattered and dog-eared, and covered with coffee stains.  Some of the important papers are missing, some are filed in the wrong place, and some have yet to be filed.  This is my way of telling them that I forget stuff.  I’m old.  Sue me.  I do try really hard not to forget things, but it happens.  Their dad is 12 years older than I am, so he forgets even more than I do.  And, (don’t freak when you read this) I’ve suggested that they give their dad a break, once in awhile, too.  It wouldn’t hurt for all of us to be a little more tolerant, right?  (Said the accommodator.)

Will received a pretty lengthy response from his dad, in an email.  And it was good.  It was.  Mark explained that he’s quite proud of how grown-up Will is.  He’s getting so good at skiing, golfing, bike riding, and shooting arrows.  He went on to say that sometimes people (himself, included) say dumb stuff that can be embarrassing.  I was quite impressed.  Of course he didn’t come out and say, “I’m sorry, Pal.  I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”  But we know not to expect actual apologies.  I told Will that he should be proud at how he stuck up for himself with his dad.  He handled the situation well, and he got quite a nice response.  I think the three of us saw a bit of effort on Mark’s part.  Dare I say, we were all a little encouraged.

Then, yesterday, Will went skiing with Mark.  It is just too much to expect us girls to want to ski both weekend days.  Will had a good day, even if the other buddies weren’t around.  The sun was out, and the remaining snow was decent.  Will was in good spirits when he returned.  But — and here’s where the other shoe drops — he told me that his dad really embarrassed him.  They were getting up from their crowded lunch table, and Mark yells, “Hey Buddy, do you need to use the bathroom before we head out?”  Will looks around to see if anybody heard his dad and quietly says, “No, Dad.  I’m fine.”  Then Mark says, “Well we don’t want any accidents on the chair lift.”

Guess I ought to tell Mark that Will is actually using deodorant now.

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3 comments

  1. What Mark said isn’t the worst thing in the world – unless you’re 11. Not 10, Dad, but 11. Soon to be 12, Dad. Please remember.

  2. Exactly. That’s that whole ‘Lack of Empathy’ thing.

  3. Another, wow…. I can just hear him (Mark)… and I can see Will’s face, that, no not again look…