Friday, August 24, 2012

Monday Mornings Are Not Fair

It's Monday morning and I'm reading early in the morning when my son, in third grade, comes out and asks if there is a 2-hour delay for school.

Ghost Walker

I look outside. Though it's early morning, the sky could not be bluer. Oh yeah, it's only the second week of school. So not only is the likelihood of a school delay slimmer than every 8-foot basketball star I've ever seen, but my kids probably shouldn't be tired of school this early in the year.

At this rate, he might get senioritis by the time he hits sixth grade. That's probably something we want to avoid, right?

Here's something else we want to avoid. Fairness. You read that right!


We cry foul an awful lot. We should stop that. I wrote awhile back about how my kids cry foul. You can read that and smirk since I am sure you have been there. But here's what I've been thinking.

Had my kids cried fair to my parents, they would have told them stories of an Earth shaped so oddly that they could walk uphill to school and then somehow walk uphill back home, as the Earth shifted while they filled their brains with knowledge. Oh, and it would be snowing as they grew up in the poorest of economies, as their hard-working parents could only provide cereal boxes for footwear.

Now either my parents were making stuff up or I haven't been everywhere on this planet. My guess is that this God-forsaken uphill-only place exists somewhere in Canada, and then so far north that only a few hockey fans continue to live.

My habit, when the children cry unfair, is to repeat fair in a questioning tone that doesn't address matters of justice. Rather, I keep repeating the word until the kids realize on their own that life is not fair.

I think it's great to let kids learn lessons the hard way. Besides, fair focuses only on me. To prove it, it's rare to see people cry foul when they are living large.

It's not fair! Fair?



See how well this works...

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