Monday, October 15, 2007

4 - Counting to Three

I'm a pretty reasonable guy. I understand there are an infinite number of books written about parenting and child discipline. There are innumerable parenting techniques that I don't agree with. But that's ok. I can live with the fact that we disagree on some things. However. There is one form of discipline that I can not comprehend. Ergo, it must be stupid. It is the warning technique that involves counting, and the magic number three.

I realize there's the Holy Trinity, Three's Company and Three Blind Mice. But don't you remember? Bad things happen in threes. Three's a crowd, the Third Reich and the Rambo Trilogy.

Blog: Um. I kind of liked the Rambo Trilogy.

Yeah. Because of it's eloquent and witty dialog, right? Maybe you should check out Gladiator or 300 and join us in the 21st Century. Sorry about that. Blog's kind of rude interrupting us in the middle of a perfectly good one sided conversation. Where were we?

Oh, yes. Counting to three. I have a question. Why stop at three? Why not go to four or ten? In my experience, which involves countless hours of field testing and research, three is not magic. I'll bet you the four pennies jangling in my right pocket that if you counted to four your kid would wait until four to listen to you. Ditto the number ten.

Have you noticed? Police don't count. "Pull it over. I'm serious. Don't make me count. Alright, buddy. One . . . Two . . . Two and a half . . . Two and three quarters . . ." Seems ridiculous, right? I agree. And, at what age does the counting stop? "Son, I expect you and your wife and kids to come for Thanksgiving dinner. What do you mean you're busy? One . . . Two . . ."

Are there rules? Like you can't count to someone older than you? "Gram, don't go outside in the ice storm. I don't want you to break your hip. Again. Gram! Get back in here! One . . . Two . . . Two and nine sixteenths . . ."

I guess the reason it seems so absurd to me is that when I tell my kids to do something, I mean it the first time. I realize that if I were a counter, they'd wait until three because they could. Kids are kids. Obviously they won't always do what you tell them to do, when you tell them to do it. But can we stop the madness?

No wonder kids demand a second and third chance. When you speed, your chances are pretty good you'll get a ticket. Don't expect a warning. Don't ask for a second chance. You were caught disobeying the law. Quit crying and take your ticket. You deserve it. Learn from it. One time. That's how many times I'm going to tell you something.

Oops. I slipped and accidentally got her pregnant. You only told me once not to play Twister. Oops. I trapped my czar around an elephant pole while I was punk. I wish you'd told me tee times so I knew you were serious about blinking and diving. They're not used to facing the consequences because they've never had to. Until the wondrous power of three has been reached.

Blog: I think you're going overboard. Blaming an insignificant number for the downfall of our society.

Sometimes I think Blog is a pesky little junior higher. Questioning my intellect and authority. Like Blog has any experience being a parent. Check the facts, pal. They fit.

I think the ridiculous counting needs to stop. If you don't mean it the first time, don't say it. And if you just can't help yourself, and you physically NEED to count - like a hummingbird needs socks - why not stop at one? You may be surprised. It's just as magic as three.

Somebody should fix that.

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