The Great Persuader

Even at six, Cole can be a great persuader. While he makes great arguments, his success rate at this age is fairly low...like, in the single digits. This is perfectly illustrated by his recent inheritance of his big brother's Heelys. If you are muttering "Heelys" under your breath with a furrowed brow, clearly you have been living in a cave and do not know that Heelys are skate shoes. They have wheels in the heels. Every school in the western hemisphere bans them, as do most malls, shopping centers, and any parents living indoors. The wheels are removable, but this renders them boring and useless to their owner.

The first morning after the inheritance, he came into the kitchen ready to leave for school. However, I noticed he had the Heelys on, wheels in of course. Very calmly I told him he could not wear his Heelys to school. He thought about this for a minute instead of screaming like a banshee - a frequent reaction to anything he doesn't like. He cocked his head slightly, put one hand on his hip, and I see the veritable wheels turning in his mind. After a couple of seconds, he said slowly,

"Well, Mrs. Parise (his kindergarten teacher) said today is Heelys and socks day." His blue eyes always betray him when he is either lying or about to come off his hinges, and this was no exception. Even though no parent with a scintilla of intelligence would believe the school would host such a ridiculous day, his eyes still reminded me of this fabrication.

Early on in the school year, as is common in every school, the school began celebrating the occasional days such as "Hero Day," when the students were encouraged to dress as their favorite heroes, or "Pajama Day," when the students could wear their pajamas to school if they gave one dollar to such-and-such cancer fund, or the day in every school when the students all wear red to promote a drug-free community. This concept apparently resonated with Cole, and he now readily uses it to promote whatever he wants to do that day. Whatever he wants to do, or wear, or take to school, he does an excellent job of attempting to persuade us that this day just happens to be the day for it.

This is even further illustrated by yesterday's events, when he found a piece of metal in the front yard en route from house to car. In the legal field, this would be called a shiv. Legal field or not, it would likely result in his suspension, which he has already had, but I digress...it's another story for another post.

I saw him shove it in his coat pocket, and glance at me questioningly. I told him he could not take whatever it was in his pocket to school. Very earnestly he told me it was "show-and-tell day, and that he was supposed to take a piece of metal to school!" AS. IF. Shockingly, I did not believe this! In an incredible show of restraint, I paused and counted to ten. Well, ok, three (I was in a hurry). Never-minding the fact that his kindergarten class only has ONE show-and-tell day PER. YEAR., I calmly told him that under no circumstances could he ever take such a piece of metal to school. I was struggling to keep myself under control and not slapping him into next year. I have always supposed that this is what separates me from the derelicts of society - while I recognize in a moment of extreme frustration that I want to slap the holy ever-loving life out of one of my children, I don't. I. Can. Step. Away.

So we are standing in the front yard, freezing, in a rush to get the people to school on time, and Cole's blue eyes change in an instant. Not for the first time, I saw the determination in his eyes to triumph over me and get his way. He tightened his grasp on the metal, and shoved his hands even deeper into his pockets. It was an impasse, and I would have to delicately negotiate my way out of this, as Cole's innocent six years have not yet provided him with these skills. I again counted to three and managed to quietly tell Cole that the school does not allow us to take those kinds of things to the school as they can be considered weapons. Cole, practicing those great powers of persuasion, countered with his argument that Mrs. Parise expected him to bring something for this show-and-tell, that she told him to bring THIS piece of metal, and that if he didn't, he would be the ONLY. ONE. without something for show-and-tell. I did immediately think about how remarkable it was that he could come up with such a justification for anything on the spot like that, but instead focused on what my response would be.

I bent down and eye-to-eye, and affirmed to him in the calmest voice I could muster, that not only could he not take this piece of metal to school, but that he was going to immediately drop that piece of metal right then and there and we were going to get in the Suburban and go to school. We stared at each other for a long three seconds, and finally I won. He dropped it, and I breathed an enormous sigh of relief as I realized my unusual exhibition of control.

And this was all before nine o'clock...just another day in paradise, right??