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Health & Fitness

The Radical's Blog: Lesson Plans and Ice Cream - Part I

This is a "thank you" to my local elementary school. Every parent should take a day to demonstrate it is OK to be goofy and enjoy life.

One of the collateral damages from spending so much time focusing on “government gone wild” is that I have a backlog of partially written blogs that have been collecting dust for some time. With the end of the school year my oldest son is leaving Loring-Flemming and moving on to middle school. Besides the thought of how did he get so old so quickly, I want to finally publish these two blogs as a "thank you" to the teachers and staff there for his five amazing years. I want to be clear when I extend my absolute sincere gratitude to everyone involved in Loring-Flemming well past the caring teachers: to the administrative support staff, educational support staff, custodial staff, and the men and women in the latchkey program. All of you have played a part in my children’s elementary education as you do for all of the children there and as many others do throughout our town. This blog and my next one are for all of you.

Back in February, I posted a blog about the simple joys of fatherhood. Also previously blogged about, I have been active in PTA since my oldest was in first grade. I still recommend every parent attend one or two meetings to learn about events in the school.

Our PTA hosts an event for the children every Friday right before the Super Bowl, called the "Super Bowl Sundae." Most of the parents active in the PTA have one or two activities that is their "thing:" one mom works the school store, one dad takes care of the bulletin board. For me, this is my thing. I make sure I attend this event every year as I have since my oldest was in first grade. I show up, do a song and dance while serving, and humiliate my kids in the process. Some people live for Xmas or Halloween. I live for this day. Call it the time when a parent is allowed to switch from passive-aggressive to active-aggressive.

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My middle child, hereby referred to as “Snogger No. 2,” has a certain way of pushing my buttons. It is probably because I installed the same buttons in him and his brothers and out of the three of them, No. 2 got my sarcasm gene. One of those buttons is to randomly get up and perform whichever funky dance he learned from TV or in school. For example: “The sprinkler.” Every winter I get to use the impending "Sundae" event to scare him to “just chill out” because I threaten to learn and perform all of his moves in front of his friends. Genetics can work both ways. He might know how to irritate me and enjoy it; I can do every move he does. I am just older, grayer and fatter.

I do not want to focus on the revenge I enacted on Snogger No. 2 that morning, but some background on him might put the day in perspective. As we were preparing to take the kids to school that morning, he referred to AC/DC’s "Thunderstruck" as “old man music.” I sat there, took a sip of my coffee and said three haunting words to him calmly and monotone: “Super. Bowl. Sundae." My oldest gave a big grin and his trademark giggle. The offending child then started whimpering, “Oh, no, Daddy. That is Horr-ibbb-el. Oh, gawd, pwease no, Daddy.” The car ride to morning latchkey was dead silent except for No. 1 letting out the random snicker and No. 2 staying ghost white. I love the smell of revenge in the morning.

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Fifth-graders are among the most entertaining of children. Their reactions and comments make the goo that used to be my right arm bearable. One child looks at the bowl with a single scoop and says “Seriously?” He got two more scoops. Another looks at the tubs of ice cream with three flavors and declares “We get all three, right?” Riiiight. When my oldest came through my line I was relatively calm with him; it was the PTA moms who recognized him as a Berry and hooked him up with every topping they could. The only hazing he got from me was a high-five and kiss on the cheek.

When Snogger No. 2 came with his third-grade class to lunch, it was show time. Again covered in ice cream, I went to his table and kneeled down next to him. The look of horror in his face was priceless. I asked his classmates, “Has he been extra quiet today?” The girl next to him silently said, “Yeah, how did you know?" “Cause I am his dad. Do you think he is afraid of what I am about to do right now?” All of them cheered “YEAHHHH!!!” What father could disappoint a class full of children? As No. 2 pulled his head into his shirt I stood up and performed No. 2’s greatest moves and a few old-time disco moves then acted like I was walking away. I saw him remove his head from shirt asking if it was over. I ran back and gave him the biggest sloppy kiss on the cheek I could. Walking away toward the teachers' lounge to clean up I muttered, “Old Man music…” Revenge is a dish best served cold—and it is very cold…in ice cream.

There are times I can be deadly serious facing very real issues with our local government. There are times I go into “Papa Bear” mode protecting my children and family. That day in February was a day to let what hair I have left down and make a few kids (and their teachers) laugh. Every parent should take a day to demonstrate it is OK to be goofy and enjoy life. Spend a day at your kid’s school and be a kid again.

In part two of this blog, I write about what happened once I cleaned myself up from that lunch shift. In the meantime, if any of you have any kind words for your children’s school or any good stories from your local PTA, please leave them in the comments section. If you have any good parent revenge stories, please comment on them too.

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