Sometimes as a parent, I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job. And then there's the other 99% of the time. For example, a little before Christmas I came across this great idea for teaching children about charity and giving. This mom helps her children choose five toys that they no longer play with. They put these toys in a bag and leave it out on Christmas Eve for Santa to take to children who don't have any toys. Santa then leaves new toys. I thought Sam was old enough to understand the concept of giving, so one day I sat down with him and explained to him that there are poor boys and girls out there who don't have any toys at all to play with. "Wouldn't that be sad to not have any toys at all?" I asked. Sam agreed. I then explained that we have lots and lots of toys, some that we don't even play with anymore. I suggested that we choose a few toys that we don't play with anymore and leave them for Santa to take to those poor children who don't have anything. I also told him that I was sure Santa was going to be bringing him some new toys. Sam suddenly started to cry. At first, I thought he was crying out of compassion for the poor children who have nothing. My heart was saying, "Awwwww..." until Sam wailed out, "Don't give my toys away! Don't let the poor boys and girls get my toys!" It took me an hour to calm him down. That night he actually woke up in the middle of the night screaming, "Not the poor boys and girls!" Apparently my message was lost in translation.
The other day I had a hankering for brownies, and so I made some. When Nic got home from some church meetings, he asked for a brownie. I told him to help himself and to cover them up for me when he was done. As he was covering the brownies with some aluminum foil, Sam came into the kitchen and cried out, "No! Don't give them to the neighbors!" Nic about fell over laughing. Yet another lesson lost in translation.
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