Parenting can be quite humbling at times.
That’s why it’s not for the weak or the easily embarrassed. At least that’s what I was thinking about on Sunday as I wrestled Carson off a ride at Trimper’s he had been booted off for misbehaving.
Like many local families, we headed to Trimper’s for the fall customer appreciation day on Sunday. It was a great way to spend the day and thanks to the Trimper family for offering it twice a year. The boys had so much fun that I had to go back to the meter after underestimating how long we would be there. Silly me, but I thought three hours would be enough when we initially parked. It turns out five hours was necessary.
Oftentimes, due to their height differences, Pam and I have to separate with the kids. Beckett likes the bigger rides, of course, and it’s unfair to make Carson wait while his big brother enjoys himself.
Therefore, I took Carson inside to ride the Carousel for the third time when he was distracted by the boats in the corner. I was fine so long as he knew I couldn’t ride it with him because I was too big. He seemed to really like that actually.
Once the ride started, I have to admit I did what I try not to do when I’m with the kids. I pulled out my phone to see the score of the Ravens game. Unfortunately, I never got to take a look at it because Carson was getting hollered at by the petulant ride operator for putting his hand in the water.
After making it clear he could not do that, I assured the ride operator he would not do it again. Before I could even finish my sentence, the non-listening Carson had his hand back in the water, and the operator shouted, “he’s done, he’s got to go.”
While his temperament was bothersome, I understood he needed to come off the ride. The problem was reaching him, and he was not about to come off on his own accord. That meant looking like quite the fool, straddling the boat and the concrete trying to pick him up. A clever game of keep away ensued until I could finally get a hold of him.
As he threw a monster temper tantrum, I carried him away in fast fashion, avoiding eye contact with the parents nearby who I hoped were not watching in a judgmental fashion, although assumed they were most likely.
The poor guy never really got his composure together after that. While I was explaining why he had to come off, all he was doing was pointing and signing, “sorry, please and boat.” I felt bad for him, but I hope it was a lesson learned for him.
To some (including my wife), it was hoped that I learned a lesson as well. While tending to the scratch marks on my neck from Carson fighting me as I removed him the ride, she reminded me it was probably a bad idea to put him on that ride without his big brother. It goes without saying that it was not exactly what I wanted to hear at that moment.
I was at a loss for words at that moment, but one thing I do know is I will not be letting Carson ride on those boats anytime soon.
It may sound strange, but without question my favorite thing to do with Beckett is to simply talk with him because he is hilarious.
His outlook is so unique and his personality so clever. He is funny without even trying and his observations typically keep the entire family laughing.
There are so many examples, but here are two from the last week.
Friday was Pride and Character Day at Beckett’s school. On the way into school, he showed me his “Pinwheel for Peace.” I asked him what was written inside, and he said, “it’s something about the world being a better place if everyone was kind. Duh, right? At least everyone I know is kind.”
Later, when he brought the pinwheel home, I learned that was not exactly what it said. Instead, it read, “I wish everyone would get along in the lunchroom,” but decided to just let that be because it made the original explanation even funnier in my opinion.
Another example involves recent sports news involving the favorite teams of the house. It’s been a memorable couple months on the sports front with the domestic violence saga over former Raven Ray Rice and the prescription drug violation by Orioles slugger Chris Davis.
Beckett had some 6-year-old insight about those situations after getting in trouble for pile driving his little brother in the house the other night. While serving his punishment, he did what he always does when in trouble — attempted to deflect from the matter of hand by downplaying his offense.
“Well, at least I didn’t punch him like Ray Rice did to his friend or do drugs like Chris Davis. Right, Daddy?,” he said, stomping up the stairs.
Holding back a laugh because it had been weeks since we talked about either situation coupled with the fact he was being overly dramatic, I let him know we would talk about it later.