They really want a fish

My daughter, the future lawyer/writer, just handed me a list of ten reasons why she and her brother should be allowed to get a fish as a pet. I have had a strong "no pet" policy in the house since I have had my own domicile; I figure I have enough to be getting on with, cleaning up after my two children and my husband who is not the tidiest person on the planet. Anything with hair is definitely out. We entertained the idea of a hermit crab for a time, until last summer, when she learned that she would have to handle the crab to bathe it. Bye-bye hermit crab. Here are my daughter's Reasons for a fish (with her spelling and grammar intact):

1. We can show you how responisble we are.
2. They are colorful.
3. They can keep you entertained.
4. We can expeirence the fish so we know if we should get them when we have kids.
5. We are going to keep bugging you for one.
6. It would teach mommy to love pets.
7. We can relive the barfing fish everyday.
8. It will teach us how to take care of a pet.
9. Most of my freinds have pets.
10. If we get 2 fish will have somone to keep him company.

While #7 made me smile (a throwback to a fish tank in a restaurant on summer vacation two years ago), I have to marvel at her skillful use of rhetoric in #4 and #5, with the appeal to emotion on #10. Sadly, I am not swayed by the bandwagon on #9.

Since she has agreed to clean the tank (I don't think she has a clue what she is in for), we will be adding an unknown quantity of fish to our household in the near future. I figure if she and her brother drop the ball, there will be natural consequences that I can live with (flush), and everyone will learn a lesson. Who knows, I might be pleasantly surprised (#6, #8, #1).

On Contracts and the End of the World

It has been a banner summer so far, replete with a large-scale violent attack (see: Aurora, CO) that makes you question everything from gun control to racial profiling in the media, and a weather-related inconvenience (see: derecho) that gives you new-found appreciation for climate control.

Here in our little corner of the world, we have also experienced one broken arm, two heads of lice, and three sore throats (one necessitating antibiotics). Is it the end of the world? According to my son, it has to be. Witness:

(Scene: Morning in the Jacob household. Children are running amok, avoiding clothes and toothbrushes. Husband is looking for clean laundry. I am on computer but soon give up to pack lunches for children. Sam, age 6, enters my office with The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe in his hand.)

Sam: Mommy, can I take this to camp today?
Me: Why?
Sam: So I can read it. So I won't be bored.
(long beat)
Me: Sweetie, I think this one is a little tough for you to read on your own. Why don't you take something else to read?
Sam: (whining) Liiiiiike whaaaaaaat?
Me: I don't know. Ask your sister for a suggestion. I've got to go pack your lunch.

Sam: Sydney, what book can I take to camp to read?
Syd: I don't know. Look on your shelf.
Sam: I've read all of those a million times. Can I take Diary of a Wimpy Kid?
Syd: But it's mine.
Sam: I just want to borrow it. J--- is reading it.
Syd. Hmmm. Hold on a sec.

(Long beat, as I reenter the picture and overhear:)

Syd: Just sign here.
Sam: Okay.
Me: Wait, wait. What are you signing?
Syd. Just a contract. It's nothing.
Me: Wait a minute. Let me see that.
Marc: Sam, don't sign anything without reading the fine print.
Me: Don't sign anything from your sister without showing it to me first.
Syd: It's too late. He already signed.
Me: Give me that.
Syd: No!

(Scrappling for paper ensues. I win and read contract, replete with cost of book and ISBN. I immediately tear up contract.)

Syd and Sam: No!
Me: No way.
Syd: He signed!
Me: Now it's null and void.
Sam: I can't take the book?
Me: No. Because you promised that if you lost it, got it wet, or basically breathed on it, you would buy her a new one.
Syd: So?
Me: So?! You don't put a contract on your brother.
Sam: But now I don't have anything to read! You said I couldn't take The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and you told me to find another book. So I found Diary of a Wimpy Kid and now you won't let me take that either. And everyone in camp is bringing books to read, and I won't have one and I'm going to be bored! It's not fair!

(Commence tantrum that lasts 10 minutes, escalates, and involves counting and a timeout. He repeats some variation of the above lines, and ends with the following phrase, repeated over and over, as he is escorted, crying, to the car to go to camp:)

Sam: It's got to be the end of the world! It's got to be! It's got to be the end of the world!

(End. Finally.)

Don't get me wrong. I'm thrilled that he wants to read. I'm slightly perturbed that he is "bored" at camp and feels the need to find ways to amuse himself, but of all the ways he could do so, books are definitely at the top of my list.

But the end of the world? C'mon, kid. I'll see your tantrum and raise you a derecho. Just don't tell Pepco!

Their Taste in Music

Recently, my kids have gotten into music. Finally, we are past the kid music stage. Shalom, Laurie Berkner, G'dday, Wiggles. We even seem to be moving out of the Chipmunks stage, although the shuffle still lands on them occasionally. I have to give some credit where credit is due--our day camp does a great job of Mifkad--morning wake up--where the kids have to get up and dance before they start the day. In the past few years, Mifkad has included Shakira, the Popcorn Song, and other more palatable selections (relative to the Wiggles).

While I still give my kids liberal exposure to musical theater (they have to know their heritage, after all), and nothing warmed my heart more than having my daughter request patter songs from Into the Woods and Kerrigan and Lowdermilk's "Party Dress" or hearing my son sing "Defying Gravity" along with us, it is nice that popular music has enter their sphere of reference. They have a vertiable lexicon now, between Dad's love of 50s, 60s, and soul; my love of 80s and musical theater; and everything they themselves choose. They're comfortable requesting "Green Onions," Dean Martin, Bobby Darin, Queen, music from Glee, Taio Cruz, the Black Eyed Peas, and beyond.

So it is funny when criticize one another for their musical taste. My son's two favorite songs of late are "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction and "Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO. Fortunately, we have the Kids Bop version of "Party Rock" (as well as the Pokemon version--don't ask), so I don't have to worry quite as much about the lyrics. But theses two songs have been in constant rotation in our house. The kids have discovered Spotify and I have to fight to get a song in the lineup. Sam put the music on the other morning before school, and we were treated to two rounds of "Party Rock" before leaving. We got into the car and I overheard the following exchange, which I only picked up about halfway into the conversation:

Syd: No, you won't.
Sam: Yes, I will.
Syd: No, you won't!
Sam: I will too. I will always like them.
Syd: No, in a couple of years you'll be sick of them.

Me: What are we talking about?

Syd: Sam thinks that he is going to like the same songs that he likes now in a couple of years. And I said he won't like them.
Sam: But I will!
Syd: (who is getting increasingly exasperated) Remember how a couple of years ago everyone was into Justin Beaver?
Me: Bieber.
Syd: Right, Beaver. Anyway, remember how he was so big? And then a little while later, everyone was so into Big Time Rush?
Sam: Yes.
Syd: Now everyone likes One Direction and LMFAO. But it will change.
Sam: But I will still like them.
Syd: (shudders slightly) Dude, a few years ago you liked trains.

Oh, the world-weariness she has at nine and the optimism he still has at six!

As much as I enjoy a good "Party Rock," I hope our playlist grows soon. There is only so much LMFAO one can listen to.... Wiggles, anyone?

The Girlfriend

(A conversation between my son--age 6--and me, as I'm tucking him into bed for the night. He has mentioned a few friends, two of whom happen to be girls.)

Me: Is she nice?
Sam: Yes.
Me: Is the other one nice?
Sam: Yes.
Me: Is she cute?
Sam: I don't know.
Me: Is she your girlfriend?
Sam: No. (beat) I guess I need to get one of those.
Me: One of what?
Sam: A girlfriend.
Me: Oh, you have time.
Sam: I do?
Me: Lots of time.
Sam: Like how long?
Me: I don't know. Twenty-five?
Sam: How about eighteen?
Me: That's fine.

My Little Man(servant)

Scene: Backseat of the car. Random squabbling ensues between six and eight-year old members of family.

Syd: Mom, he's annoying me. Make him stop!

Sam: I'm not doing anything.

Syd: Yes, you are! Stop it!

Sam: No, I'm not!

Me (from the front seat): You know, you two rarely fight. I don't know what's going on back there, but work it out. You usually get along so well. You're lucky that you don't fight so much.

Syd: But he's annoying!

Me: That's what little brothers do! They're annoying! That's their job! I speak from experience. I could tell you stories.... But I won't. I'll spare you.

Sam: Tell! Tell!

Me: No way. I don't want to give you any ammunition. I'll tell Sydney later. But Uncle Jeremy was the King of Annoying Little Brothers. So Sydney, I feel your pain. But this is life. So work it out.

(beat)

Sam: Well, if Uncle Jeremy was the King, I want to be the Butler.

Me: The what?

Sam: The Butler! The Butler of Annoying Little Brothers!