I am turning into my father
Aug. 5th, 2008 12:57 pmThe scene: I have dropped off my children at the YMCA camp. The younger kids at this camp have a chain-link fence around their play area. Since it's near a driveway there's a lot of sense to constraining the pack of hyperactive five-and-unders in this way.
The action: As I walk down said driveway I notice that one of the youngsters has effected an escape and is now playing some kind of tag-teasing game with his friend who is still inside. The two boys give me the look that I have come to identify on males of that age as "I realize this adult has Noticed we are doing Something Bad and I am now about to be In Trouble."
Me, carefully surveying the situation: "Hmm, I think one of you is on the wrong side of this fence."
Them: stare goggle-eyed at the weird adult.
Me: "But I can't tell which one it is. Can you tell me?"
Them: cautiously point at the boy on the outside.
Me: "Ah, then we know which one of you should go to the other side! Can you do that?"
Boy on the outside: careful nod, scamper off to get back in the pen.
I continue walking to my car, realizing that this is more or less precisely what my father would have done. And, I think, his father before him.