It was not so long ago that on this very page I was waxing rhapsodic about fatherhood in general and a certain rite of passage in particular. The Holy Grail of fatherhood, I called it…= my older boy was finally old enough to start mowing the lawn for me. Not only that , but I must admit I was feeling pretty proud of not just the boy, but also my own mad parenting skillz, yo.= Go me; as it were.
So that’s all well and good, but while I was still wallowing in my haze of parental hubris, karma snuck up behind me this week and sucker punched me. To wit: On Halloween that very same golden haired child I was just praising went and did something very foolish. Not the law-breakin’ kind of foolish mind you, but idiotic nonetheless.
So, although I won’t bother divulging any further details of the lad’s infraction, (if only for the sake of preserving the marital bliss of which I’m so fond) the upshot of all this is that the boy is in the midst of his first real grounding. Like the no-going-outside-or-video-games-or-going-to-karate-or-anywhere-else kind of grounding. Three days worth, no less.
I’m taking it all in stride though, because I realize I have to pace myself. He is, after all, only twelve, so I know that before long I’m going to need all my wits about me and the patience of a saint when he grows into a real teenager. (Big sigh.)