Think

Telling this story may portray me as a right bastard but this little gem was just begging to be written down. It was Friday afternoon and I was in my back yard. Late June in Houston was like late June anywhere else on the Gulf Coast with the exception of it being where I was. The relationship shared by hot and wet in Houston is a little like the relationship shared by space and time everywhere else. Even though the rain from two nights ago had long gone the resulting steam that the summer sun turned it into was like a weight on you that you could not shake off. I describe it in negative terms but honestly when I’m out there I, like most people, adapt and accept. There is not anything you can do about it after all so you may as well enjoy it. I was doing yard work and shed clean up so I had an above average sweat going. Listening to my latest audio book selection and concentrating on my labor had me wonderfully focused and in the zone as the kids say. I was feeling productive and worthwhile. In short; happy. Despite the double threat of heat and humidity.

Maria, my ‘adoring’ wife, had left the house an hour earlier to go to her office. You may think late afternoon on a Friday seemed like an odd time to go to work at a 9-4, Monday through Friday dermatology practice and if she had been going for work you would be right. In fact she was going to have one of their semi-monthly office parties. They were irregular ‘meetings’ where all the employees would gather to play games, eat rich food, complain about their husbands, and drink more than was generally advisable. This last part being especially true for Maria. But she and her low tolerance for alcohol is not the point of this story.

My daughters, Thing 1 and Thing 2, were in the house watching TV and snacking on sugar free freezer-pops and drinking all my iced-tea. Or so I thought when I saw Thing 1 open the back door and approach me with a sheepish smile on her angelic little face. She came directly for me and even before she motioned that she needed to talk to me I had stopped the book I was listening to and halted my current project of pressure washing the patio nearest my shed.

I should take a moment to say something about the way I work. I find that Newton’s Laws of Motion apply to human behavior as well as physical objects. Perhaps more so. Perhaps to a greater degree in me. The first law states that ‘An object in a uniformed state of motion tends to stay in that state of motion unless and external force is applied to it’. This is often phrased ‘An object in motion tends to stay in motion. An object at rest tends to stay at rest’. It takes me a great deal of effort or thought to get moving on something like doing yard work in the late afternoon summer sun. Not as much as it used to but still I have to work myself up into it.

The Second Law is a bit more technical in its presentation and really does not serve this story. So there is not enough external force being applied to me to recount it here. This being a demonstration of the first law.

The Third Law states that ‘For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction’. The Third Law now comes to the fore and is well worth discussing. So much more so when you lever it with what Thing 1 said to me next.

“Dad, I’m ready to be grounded,” she said, pausing here as if she had taken time to rehearse. “I flooded the upstairs bathroom and there is water dripping down through the ceiling of the dining room.”

The force opposing my calm thus engaged and began its struggle within me to release my wrath. It did not succeed… at first.

“Honey, what?” I said. Surely, I misheard.

She had a puzzled expression at that moment as she tried to find her words. Evidently I had gone off script. “Dad, I was trying to wash my foot and so I stopped the sink and let the water run and I…”

I stopped her there with a raised hand. “Show me.”

She led me into the house and up the stairs. Whether my electrolytes were low or my effort had drained me or what have you, I was not reacting to this situation yet. Actually, as I look back I remember thinking that it could not be as bad as she said. Little water on the floor maybe. That should be easy enough to… HOLY &%$@#!

“I told you!” Thing 1 said with emphasis. Her tone made it seem like the real issue here was that I had doubted her in the first place.

As I looked into the bathroom I saw Thing 2 standing there with a soaked washcloth in her hand and a perplexed look on her face. “Dad, it’s only everywhere!” As if I could not see it myself. Thing 2 has this way of mixing the finite (only) with the infinite (everywhere) with no clear inflection to indicate which she placed greater value on in the statement.

I looked at her feet which were under water just over her toes. I looked at the looked at the floor lamp standing in the corner plugged in and nearly making contact with the edge of the tidal pool that had been a bathroom floor. In the sink were the rags and towels that had valiantly given all that they had before being completely saturated and heaped in a pile my the girls. Evidently they had been at this a while before deciding to call me in.

“Dad, it’s coming through the ceiling in the dining room too!” was all I heard then as my opposite reaction in the form of wrath began to work my mouth unbidden by my conscious desire to do so. I was loud. That kind of loud only a father can be when his words of justifiable anger fall on the ears of his children. Anyone else would have seen me merely fuming and furious, but the girls, as all children do, saw seismic rage from the one source the never truly expect it from. Anyone who has ever genuinely screwed up and had to own up to it in front of their dad knows exactly what I mean. To my credit I managed not to swear. To my embarrassment I used words that may have been worse.

“Thing 1, how.. What?”

“I stopped the sink and then went to watch TV.. I forgot…”

“You left the water running while you went… Oh, my God, kid!” I said as I stepped into the bathroom next to Thing 2. She was apparently blameless in this but that did not alter my tone. I was furious in all directions and toward all parties now. It was getting worse by the second as I looked around. Not only was there a shock hazard from the floor lamp, but there were appliances on the edge of the sink as well. All recipes for extreme unpleasantness. “OUT!”

“But, Dad…” one of them said.

“OUT!!! OUT OUT OUT OUT! NOW!” I yelled. Thing 2 ran from the room leaving squishy little foot prints in the sodden carpet just outside of the door. Thing 1 stood there out of bravery or terror I don’t know which. I wish she hadn’t. If Maria had been there she would have already ushered them both from the event horizon and left me to decompress. As it was I was staring the culprit of this mischief square in her eye and at that moment had not the capacity for gentility. Forgive me Hugh Beaumont.

Here comes trouble. I entered verbal territory I should not have. I was cogent enough to insert a preemptive save so that it was the first thing she heard and I hope to God it took in her mind. “Thing 1, you are not a dumb kid,” We’re OK so far. “I know you had to know better than this,” Not bad. Still in control. Pull it back now… “But this was a dumb thing to do.”

Shit… Shut-up. Bite your lip. Say a Hail Mary. Think of Christmas. Do whatever. Just stop talking. Think before you do something stupid… er.

Thing 1 was a shaking mess by now and her tears fell from her eyes as I glowered at her. I did not want to glower but I knew that I was. It is just sort of how my face is made. Unless I’m actively smiling I’m glowering to some degree or another.

“Just go downstairs, kid. Let me deal with this.”

Thing 1 went but as she did the will to hold back her weeping collapsed and by the time she was at the bottom of the stairs she was in full China Syndrome.

Now, so far I’m defensible. I removed my young children from a very dangerous situation. Electrocution is nothing to play with. Yes, I was angry and I did yell but I tried my best to keep the lid on it. So far I feel you are with me. But now I know I’m about to lose you. I accept this.

Thing 1 got to the bottom of the stairs where Thing 2 was waiting for her. Thing 1 sobbing her little eyes out and Thing 2 patting her on her back telling her, “It will be ok, Thing 1.”

Choking through her sobs Thing 1 replied, “No, it won’t… I messed up so bad… This is the worst birthday ever!”

…aaaaaaaand, bastard.

I hadn’t forgotten. We had celebrated earlier. Chuck E. Cheese, cookie cake, presents. Nothing fancy but she had a good time. Of course I was not thinking birthday moments before as I was standing in toe deep water. Perceived crisis has a way of refocusing your attention.

Now I was at a crossroads of sorts. I could continue to be angry and deranged. That would be very easy. But at that moment I found the alternative to be very easy too. Letting it go. Normally I’m not the type that can just let things go. While generally easy going I have been likened before to a ‘dog with a bone’. Those of you that know me personally feel free to be shocked at that revelation. But let it go I did. It was just water. I can mop that up, and as long as the air circulated the walls and dining room would be ok. The danger had passed. God had seen to that. All that was left was to clean up the mess with the girls.

I went downstairs after I had finished. My feet were still wet even as yard grime covered my shoulders and bits of grass were still in my hair. I saw the girls there watching TV and I caught Thing 1’s attention calling her to me. She shuffled over in sort of sad puppy form and looked up at me. None of this was a put on. She really was genuinely regretful. I understood that she knew her mistake. I apologized to her yelling like I did and tried get through to her that I was not upset anymore.

Once I felt I had made my point I went back over what she did. Collectively we decided that perhaps plugging the sink might be a bad idea. Further it may be a worse idea to plug the sink and then go watch a little TV while waiting for it to fill. I told her that this thing she did not make her exceptional. Everybody does dumb things from time to time. I do dumb things. Yelling at her while I was angry was a dumb thing. All that said it’s important that take something from this that we can use and appreciate though. At this time Thing 2 has wandered up and was listening too. I told them we should make a motto.

Construction of a motto is not difficult as it turns out. You take a situation that you either desire or wish to avoid and build a trite little saying around it. In this case we have an eight year old playing unsupervised in an upstairs bathroom. We have a responsible adult focused on yard work. Both parties are distracted or become distracted at some point. Also at some point they both fail to think at the precise moment when considered thought would have been appropriate. Absence of thought is stupidity.

Stupid is a bad word in our house. We forbid the girls from calling each other stupid, or saying things are stupid, etc. It can hurt feelings and make others feel as though they have less worth than they actually do and fosters an attitude of superiority falsely. That is about as much of the touchy feely aspect of this that I can handle. Stupid is thought of as a bad word because of it’s aforementioned power. Well that power can be useful to if channeled properly. So I used my dad veto power to partially lift the absolute moratorium on the dread word and I forged our motto, not excluding myself from it’s application. And if you ask my girls what our motto is they will tell you:

“Think before you do something stupid.”

We all repeated it together a few times and started laughing about it. The girls really thought they were getting away with something and that was fine as far as I was concerned. We ended the evening with ice cream. It was a birthday after all.