The bell from hell

Written by Sai: Aka, “One of the Guys”

When my kids are sick I never quite feel right. It’s as if I have a furry woodland creature gnawing away at my stomach lining, trying to claw it’s way in. Somehow I’m able to function with this creature inside of me, but it throws off my equilibrium and my balance. And I get occasional stabs of pain.

My daughter’s been sick the last four days. She’s got a fever. She’s tired, listless, and unhappy. So my wife and I set her up on the couch in our room, so she can sleep, watch TV, and be with us at night. We like to be able to keep an eye on her.

But since we still have to attend to our other responsibilities-like her brothers-we gave her a small bell to ring when she needs us. This same bell we’ve also given to her brothers when they’ve been sick, and it seemed to work well. The boys would use it only when they needed something serious-like they were getting cold, or they were hungry, or lonely. My daughter, well that’s another story.

It all started off innocently enough. She’d ring it for some of the same reasons as the boys. But then she realized the power of the bell, and that’s when things got out of control.

“Daddy, my blanket fell on the floor.” (The couch is six inches above the floor)

“Daddy can you change the channel.” (She’s holding the remote and knows how to use it.)

“Mommy, can you bring me the computer?” (It’s on the bed next to the couch. She’s feeling better and totally capable of walking over to bed.)

“Daddy, what’s your favorite color?”

“Mommy, I want a dog.”

And it went on and on. Every time we’d sit and relax, or get started on a project that damn bell would ring. In fact my wife and I started hearing that bell, even when she wasn’t ringing it.

“Was that the bell?” my wife would say to me.

“No I think it was one of the boys blowing his nose.”

__________________

“I think I hear the bell,” I would say.

“Nope, that’s the dish washer,” my wife would retort.

___________________

And so it went.

And I got to wondering. My boys have had the same bell in their possession, but they’ve only used it when it was absolutely necessary. Actually, we had to push them to use it, otherwise they would have sat in bed and suffered. My boys actually felt threatened by that damn bell.

But not my daughter. Oh no. My daughter felt empowered by the bell. .

So I’ve been pondering what this all means, and how it might relate to the innate qualities of men and women.

Are we truly all hardwired from birth to take on the qualities of gender, passed on by generations before us?

Or is this an isolated incident, unique to my family and my kids?

My boys are like tiny men; you know the kind-they refuse to ask for directions when they’re lost. And my daughter is completely comfortable with the power bestowed on her, wielding it at every opportunity. It’s a funny thought to me, but one that might have some merit to it.

Either way, I’d like to take that bell and send it where it belongs-to the depth of Hades. But I am glad she’s starting to feel better. And she’s hard to say no to.

Gotta run. I hear that freakin’ bell now. Am I’m not kidding!!!!
“I’m coming honey!!”

What do you think?

Easy Motivation

This post is not about kids. It’s about what motivates people, and in particular, GUYS! But I have to set the table for you. So pretend you’re at a party and people start talking about their kids. Inside you’re rolling your eyes, because nothing could be more boring than hearing people go on and on about their kids. Even the people who HAVE kids can’t stand it. So bear with me here. I’ll unfold this quickly.

I was at a party last night with some of the GUYS. A few of us were discussing our kids’ obsession with the Wii. (For those of you living in a cave for the last five years, the Wii is a gaming system that has swept through every household containing one or more small beings.) Anyway, I was saying that I use the Wii as a carrot, to get my kids to do all the things I want them to do. Now let’s be clear, I can get them to do all of those things without the Wii, but it eliminates the freakin’ whining, complaining, crying, whimpering and any other “ing” word you can think of.

This method of parenting is not in any book about raising children. BUT, we all know that theory is much different than practice. I can guarantee that every parent with the means has used the TV at least once, as a way to get their kids to stop screaming, running, yelling or beating on each other. (There’s those “ing” words again!) And more importantly, give themselves a much needed BREAK!!! That’s not written in any of the books either, but when you’re in the trenches, you do what you need to do to survive.  All in moderation.

Anyway, like I said, this post is not about kids.

So I’m at the party and I’m “reading” the room. I could have filled a glass with all the water coming out of people’s eyes during that discussion about the Wii. So in order to save the night I open my big mouth and say, “This is exactly the same as when GUYS are hungry for sex.”

Silence……uh oh……I did it again…..crickets……..uncomfortable body movements…….then one slight smile……another……..one head bob in agreement…….then more crickets……a few look aways…….no more signs of  approval ……damn…….still nothing………..shit, I ruined the party……..my wife is going to kill me……..we’ll argue……but who cares……….the make up sex will be great………oh god………..take me away Calgon……….finally someone chimes in……….I’m saved……. (note to self, KILL other GUYS)

“Exactly,” I hear this person say. I don’t know him. He’s not one of THE GUYS, but I immediately love him and want to buy him a gift certificate to his place of choice. Or give him a big guy hug. (See previous post for explanation on why I didn’t go that route.)

I look around at some of THE GUYS, with that look that says, “WTF DUDE! WHAT…you don’t got my back?”

Then finally one of  THE GUYS says, “When I want sex, my wife could basically ask me to do anything and I’d do it. Take out the trash. Clean the dishes. Put the kids to bed. Take out the neighbor’s trash. Go to the pharmacy to pick up a late night prescription. Promise to visit her folks next weekend. Take out the other neighbor’s trash.”

His wife is in the bathroom. I make a mental note to tell her everything. I don’t like to get left high and dry. (Seems like an appropriate metaphor for the topic at hand.) Payback will be sweet. Although, like he said, he won’t care because men are in an altered state when the hormones are raging and their bodies are churning inside. When this happens, GUYS can be controlled by any remote available. Easily programmed and then easily manipulated by any button our partner wants to push.

This is no secret!!

It’s just something people don’t bring up at parties. Well, most people that is. But hey, somebody had to save the night, and it might as well been, “ONE of THE GUYS.”

So what am I saying? I’m not saying what you think I’m saying. It’s never a good thing to make it obvious you’re controlling someone. So be subtle about it. We don’t do well if we know that you know. So just be coy about it, and we’ll pretty much do what you want.

So mommies… Let your kids play the Wii. It is pretty cool. And it might be a good time to get reacquainted with your hubby. That is after he takes a shower. That’s a lot of garbage to be taking out.

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