Overheard at Costco
I met the Postmistress and 3 of our kids for lunch at The Happiest Place on Earth today.
Not Disneyland, though we live close enough we could do that. But that would be so old school for this modern family. I mean, seriously, if we measure the happiness of a place by how much money we spend each time we go there . . . I sure don’t see Mr. Toad flippin’ back any $300 rebate checks each spring.
Costco fine dining, anyone?
Buck and a half for a dog and coke.
So, here we all sit at those tables that strangely resemble the ones from grade school. Packed together real close. Brushing backs with the sweaty lady in the ballcap. Actually saying hello to someone you recognize from soccer last season. Sharing the other end of the table with Laurel and Hardy, who look like they could be married.
And you think we could just smile and make a little small talk with each other. Nothing heavy ’cause we’re just hooking up for a quick lunch. Should be plenty of safe topics at hand for the next half-hour: “Nice weather, how were finals, what would you like to do this weekend, can I buy a new bike, how’s your day.” How hard can it be, really?
We could have carried on with the nice conversation about the raccoon family that broke into the dogfood bin last night. That caught my attention. I thought it was really cute when they paused to wash their little paws in the swimming pool. Judging by the hysterics of my wife at 3:00am, one would think that this would warrant at least a few minutes of banter. Nah.
What about the dangerous gang of rodents that moved in to clean up the mess the racoons left behind? I thought it clever that they would climb the screen door outside our bedroom, then launch their little selves into the waiting dogfood bin. Sleep deprived and still in intruder alert mode, the wife pulled back the drapes at 4:00 am to see what was making such a clatter and locked eyes with a certain Mr. Mouse, who deftly performed a backflip for her into the dogfood bin. Did I mention how fond she is of beady eyes and hairless tails? HO HUM.
“So what exactly were you thinking when you went outside to scare off the ‘coons in the nude?” The mistress inquires.
“I didn’t imagine I had time to put on a suit, what with all the hysterics you were throwing off.”
“You know how mean those things can get. What if they turned around and attacked you? How would we explain the wounds on the private parts to the emergency room doctor?” Devious grins were exchanged between boys. Demure, knowing smiles crossed the faces of the girls. Dad was in the crosshairs again.
I suppose the mental picture was just too much for everyone. A Vulcan Mind Meld occurred between the 4 of them: A Mom who should know better, a 17 year old boy who knows too much, an 11 year old girl who has heard waaay too much, and our 7 going on 17 year old boy. “I have an idea . . . Let’s talk about Dad’s vasectomy!” Here in Costco. While rubbing backs with Mrs. sweaty-back. And maybe we should all sing It’s a Small World After All.”
“Those raccoons could have saved you some money on the operation, Dad.” Hoo-boy, here we go. Some men receive honor through the retelling of stories of past greatness. Some men’s children sit quietly in rapt attention while dad tells stories of his prowess on the athletic field. Some men have kids that brag on their dad-you know:”My dad can beat your dad” kind of stuff. Some men.
They wanted to rehash V-day. “A day that will live in infamy” to loosly quote FDR.
“So, like, you’re sitting there in just your shirt when the doctor comes in? Just your shirt? Nothing else? Weren’t you really embarrassed to have another guy poking around down there?” the mistress prods. Somehow, my sterilization has become a cathartic experience for my wife. The 6 months prior to her “yearly exam” are a simmering pot of anticipatory stress. Then, for 6 months after, I hear about how lucky I am not to be a lady and how humiliating the “yearly” is and “How would you like to put your feet up in stirrups?” So I suppose fair is fair. Have at me. Just not in Costco, please.
“Well, it didn’t hurt did it?”
“Not at first.” And the cutting really didn’t hurt. <Exaggeration alert>Different story when he pulled the first nad out and tucked it in the cleft of my first two toes. Only minor relief when he tucked it back in. The balance of the procedure took place on the ceiling. <End alert> In the end, it was only 2 or 3 minutes of agony. He forgot to mention that some men feel a little discomfort during the tie-off.
“Didn’t you want to watch what he was doing?”
“Honey, you forget I am the man who fainted last time I had blood drawn. And I would want to watch such a delicate procedure?”
And here is where things went south: Michael says, “Yeah, I have watched a vasectomy before. I saw how they cut the tubes, fold them over and put the little clips on them. I can’t see how those tubes would ever grow back together.” I stare, intrigued to find out if he is just messing with me. “Really, I saw one done on a cadaver in Biology class. Saw it done to a dog when the class visited the Vet, too. I even did one myself during a dissection.”
Well, this boy has been around.
“Your whole class, even the girls, watched a vasectomy on a dead guy?”
“Sure, it was neat. They wanted to show us how a surgery was done and they didn’t have a lot of time, so they did a V.” Neither I nor my wife knew what to say. Who knew our 17 year-old had gotten such an education? And I wondered why he hadn’t mentioned this until now, since the last Biology class he took was last year.
I suppose he thought that if he brought up those particular anatomy lessons at the time, his parents would then feel license to discuss more personal anatomy issues with him. And he would have been right. I am so glad that he is feeling more secure about himself today. I guess I don’t mind being the object of their jokes if that helps him along with sorting out his manhood.
I think I have forgotten the turmoil that is going on in our kids as they continually work through the process of growing up. Progressing from little kid, to big kid, to young adult, to adulthood is a herky-jerky affair. I remember a lot of self-doubt and insecurity inside my self. I wished more people would have initaited conversations that would allow me to explore the questions I had. I wish now that my parents were more vulnerable.
I was glad for the reminder that we cannot ever take the job of parenting lightly. Even when we just want to have a simple lunch at the local warehouse store. Our children need to see us model how to talk about “difficult” subjects. I think we owe them vulnerability: it helps us to be perceived as more accessible to them.
I owe my dear wife a debt of gratitude for her leadership in this area. Her “gift of gab” is truly a gift to our children.
Tags: communication, costco, kids
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May 30th, 2008 at 9:43 am
[...] raccoons were at it again night before last. See this post for more. Rummaging around the yard, picking fruit off the trees, snacking on dogfood, bathing in the [...]