The Prime Parental Directive
"Whenever we have pancakes, we ALWAYS get to school on time!" my nine year old exclaimed. "With maple syrup," his sister chimed in helpfully. Mimi and Grandpa's Sunday supper had ended, a summer-fresh gazpacho still tingling on the lips, the pups hungrily eyeing the leftover scraps of cheeseburgers. The perfect time for answering the Big Questions, like "What's your family like?"
A family friend, a career counselor, had disclosed one of his secrets in assessing clients' personality and character. He would invite the candidate and spouse to supper, and pick them up at their home. While there, he'd make small talk with the children, and try to ascertain the Prime Parental Directive operating within the family. Usually younger kids could sum it up with the answers to "In our family, we ALWAYS...' and "We NEVER...."
I'm not sure if the relationship between pancakes and promptness richly defines life in our family, but it's not bad. One might hope to leave a nobler legacy a deep spiritual insight, or a sense of service to mankind, or a passion for The Great Books; getting there fed and on time may be prosaic, but it could be worse. Still, I pressed them further.
"In our family, we always..." I prompted. "Have crooked teeth?" our eldest ventured gamely, grinning through his braces. True. His dentist had pointed out that his mouth resembled his mom's and uncles' crossbites. (Nice to have that orthodontic continuity.)
"Whenever we're running late, we drive slower!" cried the little one. It's starting to catch with them. It took only three decades of driving for me to learn that you can't substantially decrease travel time across city streets by speeding. These days I enjoy the self-righteousness of glaring at ne'er-do-wells who accelerate to pass on the right in school zones, while saving myself money on speeding tickets and insurance rates.
"This is good stuff," I observed. "Gonna be a column in this." Aghast, someone blurted, "Oh, no you don't! It will be all the ways that we're weird and horrible people." Hmmm. Cover, quickly. "Not necessarily," I said. "For example: we NEVER cross threads." A stern admonition from the clan's patriarch, a machinist of distinction and pride in his workmanship, imparted to his surprised but very impressionable young daughter. "That's not a Prime Parental Directive, that's just good mechanics," came the rejoinder. "What if I leave out the really horrible stuff, and use just a little of the weird?" Grudging assent.
"OK, these are good, but what about the things that really matter?" I pressed on. "Well, we always sing ALL the verses in church," my sweet wife pointed out. Ah, Lutherans; none of the lazy Catholic two-verses-and-out shirking I'd grown up with.
Thinking of my own childhood and the supper table brought this one: "We ALWAYS look it up in the dictionary." The only reason one could leave the table during supper was to skip over to the bookcase to pull Dad's tattered college dictionary and await its ruling. Dad eschewed fancy "modern" dictionaries, with their evolving and expanding lexicons. If it wasn't a word in 1948, we didn't need it.
We started to clear the dishes. "Oh, I know! When in Kenosha, ALWAYS get the soup." Whether at a restaurant or Mimi's house, soup is dependably good in this town. Always get the specialty of the house. Don't go to Bob Chinn's Crab House for the chicken, and don't expect tender fettucine Alfredo at McDonald's. In a broader sense, this rule really means "Trust good people to do what they're best at."
The discussion continued in the car. We stopped to slip some overdue library books in the drop slot. "Dad, don't you always say not to complain about paying library fines?" They buy more books. We get more books to read. What's not to love?
Home. Showers, schoolbags ready for the next day, book time before bed. "Hey, Dad, you promised we could play Wii Bowling tonight!" It was getting late; still... "Well, ok, because --" Together, the kids chorused "In our family, we ALWAYS keep our deals, even when it's hard!"
Payday! Half the challenges of parenting are solved once the kids learn that, know it, trust it, rely on it absolutely. No fuzziness, no grey areas, no renegotiating. Say it, mean it, do it. Deal fulfillment becomes its own reward, but also makes external incentives more effective, because they are sure to be rewarded.
I think I'm ready to be investigated by that career counselor; I don't need to fear what he'll uncover about our family. I think.
A family friend, a career counselor, had disclosed one of his secrets in assessing clients' personality and character. He would invite the candidate and spouse to supper, and pick them up at their home. While there, he'd make small talk with the children, and try to ascertain the Prime Parental Directive operating within the family. Usually younger kids could sum it up with the answers to "In our family, we ALWAYS...' and "We NEVER...."
I'm not sure if the relationship between pancakes and promptness richly defines life in our family, but it's not bad. One might hope to leave a nobler legacy a deep spiritual insight, or a sense of service to mankind, or a passion for The Great Books; getting there fed and on time may be prosaic, but it could be worse. Still, I pressed them further.
"In our family, we always..." I prompted. "Have crooked teeth?" our eldest ventured gamely, grinning through his braces. True. His dentist had pointed out that his mouth resembled his mom's and uncles' crossbites. (Nice to have that orthodontic continuity.)
"Whenever we're running late, we drive slower!" cried the little one. It's starting to catch with them. It took only three decades of driving for me to learn that you can't substantially decrease travel time across city streets by speeding. These days I enjoy the self-righteousness of glaring at ne'er-do-wells who accelerate to pass on the right in school zones, while saving myself money on speeding tickets and insurance rates.
"This is good stuff," I observed. "Gonna be a column in this." Aghast, someone blurted, "Oh, no you don't! It will be all the ways that we're weird and horrible people." Hmmm. Cover, quickly. "Not necessarily," I said. "For example: we NEVER cross threads." A stern admonition from the clan's patriarch, a machinist of distinction and pride in his workmanship, imparted to his surprised but very impressionable young daughter. "That's not a Prime Parental Directive, that's just good mechanics," came the rejoinder. "What if I leave out the really horrible stuff, and use just a little of the weird?" Grudging assent.
"OK, these are good, but what about the things that really matter?" I pressed on. "Well, we always sing ALL the verses in church," my sweet wife pointed out. Ah, Lutherans; none of the lazy Catholic two-verses-and-out shirking I'd grown up with.
Thinking of my own childhood and the supper table brought this one: "We ALWAYS look it up in the dictionary." The only reason one could leave the table during supper was to skip over to the bookcase to pull Dad's tattered college dictionary and await its ruling. Dad eschewed fancy "modern" dictionaries, with their evolving and expanding lexicons. If it wasn't a word in 1948, we didn't need it.
We started to clear the dishes. "Oh, I know! When in Kenosha, ALWAYS get the soup." Whether at a restaurant or Mimi's house, soup is dependably good in this town. Always get the specialty of the house. Don't go to Bob Chinn's Crab House for the chicken, and don't expect tender fettucine Alfredo at McDonald's. In a broader sense, this rule really means "Trust good people to do what they're best at."
The discussion continued in the car. We stopped to slip some overdue library books in the drop slot. "Dad, don't you always say not to complain about paying library fines?" They buy more books. We get more books to read. What's not to love?
Home. Showers, schoolbags ready for the next day, book time before bed. "Hey, Dad, you promised we could play Wii Bowling tonight!" It was getting late; still... "Well, ok, because --" Together, the kids chorused "In our family, we ALWAYS keep our deals, even when it's hard!"
Payday! Half the challenges of parenting are solved once the kids learn that, know it, trust it, rely on it absolutely. No fuzziness, no grey areas, no renegotiating. Say it, mean it, do it. Deal fulfillment becomes its own reward, but also makes external incentives more effective, because they are sure to be rewarded.
I think I'm ready to be investigated by that career counselor; I don't need to fear what he'll uncover about our family. I think.