Day 53
“Put down that sticker.” “Boy, Boy-middle-name, Last name. DO NOT PUT THAT STICKER ON THE CHAIR. DO NOT.”
These were the words the wife said this evening. I was right beside her, but silent. Looking sternly at the boy, but not sure why, exactly.
He stormed out of the room, and I turned to wife and asked “why no stickers on the chair?” She looked at me perplexed. “You made such a big deal about him drawing on his train tracks.”
That’s true. I did. In my mind there is a difference between drawing on toys, a big no no, and putting stickers on things. On EVERYTHING. To me, that’s ok. What else are stickers for? Right?
The wife is a bit confused, and I get that. Sometimes the things that upset me are arbitrary. I’m not sure why no drawing but yes stickers, but it makes PERFECT sense in my head.
“Follow me,” I said. She slowly got up and walked with me to the living room. I sat on the couch. She looked back, distracted by something the boy was doing. “come here!” I said. She slowly walked towards me, a little confused. “Just come heeerreee.” She stood by my side as I pointed to the small bookcase next to the couch. Atop the bookcase was a small “C” sticker, from one of his sticker books.
“I can’t hold the boy to a standard that I don’t keep myself.”
I’m 40 years old, and if you give me a sticker, I’m going to do one of the following: Roll it up into a cylinder in my fingers and then bend it into a “7” and then maybe a triangle. Or, stick it to a surface. One where you might not notice it for a while, but when you do, if you’re me, you’ll smile.
