The first of an occasional series where I post recent Dad/lad talks for fun, posterity or just so I don't forget them when I go senile.
Here's a little story about #2 Son in honor of his day. A few months ago, he had to recite this cute Shel Silverstein poem for class. It's called "Smart."
SMART
My dad gave me one dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more than one!
And then i took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes-i guess he don't know
that three is more than two!
Just them, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!
And i took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
and the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!
And then i went and showed my dad,
and he go red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head-
Too proud of me to speak!
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more than one!
And then i took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes-i guess he don't know
that three is more than two!
Just them, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!
And i took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
and the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!
And then i went and showed my dad,
and he go red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head-
Too proud of me to speak!
The night before, he had it down cold, but the recitation had the sort of emotionless, flat quality of rote memorization. So I put on my speech coach hat and showed him which words and phrases to punch to derive the humor and meter from the poem.
The next day we were walking home from school and he said he'd done his presentation. I asked him how he did and an odd hangdog expression came over his face. (All my doggy owner friends know that expression.) I held my breath, thinking oh no, he messed it up. He mumbled a response to my question and I asked him to repeat himself.
I said, "But son, that's great."
He said, "I guess, but they clapped really loud!"
Me: "What's wrong with that?"
Him: "Nobody got as much applause as I did."
Me (heart swelling, but sensing the teachable moment): "Son, its great that you have empathy for your classmates. You're all part of a community and it's nice that you want to share things like praise with them. There will be times when they do things better than you and there will be just as many times (or more) when you do better than them. But you have to promise me something."
Little man: "What's that Dad?"
Me: "That you will never, ever again be embarrassed about excelling. Even if you're the only one who does. Instead of feeling embarrassed, ask yourself why they clapped so loud. Ask yourself what you did right to earn those claps and what you might have done better. Instead of feeling embarrassed turn it into a learning experience. Do you see what I'm saying?
Silent head nod.
Me: "Good! Now give me a hug."
Sometimes a kid who senses he is different and excels wants nothing more than to fit in. Nothing wrong with that, but when there's a strong, unique light under that bushel, a parent's job is to help lift that bushel and let it shine. It's moments like this that bring a sort of transcendental joy to being a parent. I've been graced with many such moments.
