I have so many stories about my family over the years that I thought I'd start blogging them so that when I'm older and grayer, I could go back to my younger days and remember the good ol days.
This first story happened around April 1986. Kathi and I were stationed at Beale Air Force Base in California. Home of the SR-71. This particuler day I came home from work and Kathi came out of the house holding our four year old daughter Missy, and clutching our five year old son Tom by the hand. She had a look of frustration on her face as she announced "These kids are yours". She then said that she was going to take a nap while our seven month old son Greg was sleeping.
I grabbed Tom and Missy to take them to the back yard so that I could set up a play area for them. I grabbed Tom's T-ball set out of the shed and set it up on the right side of the yard and handed Tom his little aluminum bat, (that Kathi bought for him), and told him not to go over to the left side of the yard, because if he hit Missy with his bat he could kill her. (Excellent parenting here by the way).
I went back into the shed and grabbed a couple of Missy's Barbi's from the toybox, and set her at the Little Tykes picnic table. I proceeded to tell her not to go over to the other side of the yard because if Tom hit her with his bat, she could die. (Some more excellent parenting here)
I then proceeded to get my electric sander out of the shed so that I could continue sanding our picnic table so that I could get it ready for the upcoming summer months. After 10 or 15 minutes of sanding I feel this tug on my left leg, and look down to see my son Tom's face full of horror. I turned the sander off and said, "What's wrong with you" he screamed "I KILLED MISSY". I franticly looked for my daughter, but she was no where to be found. I began to run into the house with a five year old boy clamped on my left leg screaming. I opened the front door and ran in to find Missy in the hallway holding her hand and screaming at the top of her lungs, "I'M GONNA DIE". By this time Greg was screaming his tiny little lungs out and Kathi came out of the bedroom screaming "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" I had to scream over the three kids that I was just taking care of my kids when all HELL broke lose. She screamed at me to get the Hell out of her house! As I sat in the car, I was amazed that my children actually listened to what I had told them. If you could have seen the horror in Tom's face when he thought that he had killed his sister, and Missy's face when she thought that she was going to die, I realized that I had a lot to learn about what you can and can't say to children. If you can't trust your parents, who can you trust?
I'm happy to say that Kathi finally let me back in the house after only a couple hours. I explained to the kids that Daddy should not have said the things that he did to cause confusion in the minds of a 5 and 4 year old. We laugh about it now that they have families of their own. But it definately opened my eyes to a whole new world of how to look at things.
This first story happened around April 1986. Kathi and I were stationed at Beale Air Force Base in California. Home of the SR-71. This particuler day I came home from work and Kathi came out of the house holding our four year old daughter Missy, and clutching our five year old son Tom by the hand. She had a look of frustration on her face as she announced "These kids are yours". She then said that she was going to take a nap while our seven month old son Greg was sleeping.
I grabbed Tom and Missy to take them to the back yard so that I could set up a play area for them. I grabbed Tom's T-ball set out of the shed and set it up on the right side of the yard and handed Tom his little aluminum bat, (that Kathi bought for him), and told him not to go over to the left side of the yard, because if he hit Missy with his bat he could kill her. (Excellent parenting here by the way).
I went back into the shed and grabbed a couple of Missy's Barbi's from the toybox, and set her at the Little Tykes picnic table. I proceeded to tell her not to go over to the other side of the yard because if Tom hit her with his bat, she could die. (Some more excellent parenting here)
I then proceeded to get my electric sander out of the shed so that I could continue sanding our picnic table so that I could get it ready for the upcoming summer months. After 10 or 15 minutes of sanding I feel this tug on my left leg, and look down to see my son Tom's face full of horror. I turned the sander off and said, "What's wrong with you" he screamed "I KILLED MISSY". I franticly looked for my daughter, but she was no where to be found. I began to run into the house with a five year old boy clamped on my left leg screaming. I opened the front door and ran in to find Missy in the hallway holding her hand and screaming at the top of her lungs, "I'M GONNA DIE". By this time Greg was screaming his tiny little lungs out and Kathi came out of the bedroom screaming "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" I had to scream over the three kids that I was just taking care of my kids when all HELL broke lose. She screamed at me to get the Hell out of her house! As I sat in the car, I was amazed that my children actually listened to what I had told them. If you could have seen the horror in Tom's face when he thought that he had killed his sister, and Missy's face when she thought that she was going to die, I realized that I had a lot to learn about what you can and can't say to children. If you can't trust your parents, who can you trust?
I'm happy to say that Kathi finally let me back in the house after only a couple hours. I explained to the kids that Daddy should not have said the things that he did to cause confusion in the minds of a 5 and 4 year old. We laugh about it now that they have families of their own. But it definately opened my eyes to a whole new world of how to look at things.
I've never heard this story, loved it!
ReplyDelete