My little boy is starting to grow up a bit. He has been aware that he wants a friend for a few months now. I have been a little saddened by his unfulfilled need.
A few months back Josh asked if we could go to the store and buy potato chips. I asked him why and he replied " If I had some chips maybe I could have a friend over to share them with me." I was heartbroken to say the least. Soon Josh was making up imaginary friends. I would hear him playing with them in his room, carrying on long conversations. At this point my sympathy began to give way to concern. Two days ago, he took the imagination to a whole new level. He began to speak in a higher voice and insisted that he was not Josh, but rather Suzanne. At this point I was just getting creeped out. I was convinced that this was not an exercise in gender confusion. This was more like a version of Sybil, the story of the woman with 30 personalities. Not being sure what to do about all this, because admittedly I may have failed the semester of childhood behavior and development while getting my psychology degree. I was not remembering much of what I should do on a cognitive level to properly nurture the boy, so I tried some old school remedies. First I tried ice baths, and when that did not shake him out of his funk, I sprinkled holy water on him and yelled what little Latin I remembered from being an altar boy. Nothing. Not even a head spin or projectile vomiting. Next I tried the home made electro-shock therapy, by building up static electricity on my rug and then going and touching him on the nose. This actually elicited somewhat of a bad response, his voice went two octaves lower and he told me I was bule gila, which is an Indonesian term roughly translating to "crazy honky". At this point my wife intervened and banished me back to my room, which is really where I wanted to be in the first place. It gave me time to think of an action plan for the boy.
It turns out, He had his own ideas. For the last six months he has been pointing at the house across the street and telling me that he wants to go play with Justin Beeber. I don't know why he thinks that the singer lives there, but I do know that Justin Beebers mom looks pretty pissed off when she is mowing the lawn while Justin Beebers dad hangs out in the garage drinking beer. Sunday afternoon I told Josh to get in the car and he went out to the garage. I come out a minute later and he is at the end of the driveway talking to two kids over twice his age. I broke character for once and asked Josh if he was making new friends. (Normally I would be yelling to get the bikes off my lawn) Later that evening the two boys showed up on the step asking if Josh could come out and play. It was like a dream come true for Josh, and I could not have been prouder and happier for him.
To prove this we totally ruined it for him by standing out on the front porch making the kids pose for home movies and pictures. As I stood there taking snapshots, I had an revelation. I had become the persona that I hated as a kid. The doting parent with a camera. I was now that parent who insisted on taking the picture of me and my date before the big dance. I remember well. I just wanted to pick up the girl and get to dancin’. Nope. Boy, get in here and meet the father. Stand up against the fireplace and take a picture with our daughter. Keep your damned hands to yourself. Don't stand so far away from her, I cannot get you in the picture. Are you afraid of our beautiful girl? What is wrong with her? What, don't you don't want to be with our daughter? Wait, what, You DO? What do you mean by that??!!
Sorry, had a momentary flashback there. (Don't worry Kayla, this is not about you, your dad only threatened to tear my head off.)
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