Teaching our kids to own their daily chores is somewhat akin to teaching a bear to ride a bicycle. It can be done…it just isn’t natural (thanks “sin nature” for making my kids lazy). Just remember…bears performing at the circus (aka the kids we’ll someday release to the world) look a whole lot better than the bears in training (I’m guessing here).
If I were being honest, I’d confess I’ve been trying to teach my kids to own their chores…for 3 years.
Maybe I’m the problem! Perhaps I’m the bear wrestling with the tricycle and my boys are the trainers – futilely attempting to teach me a new parenting trick. It just takes kids so long to embrace their parents’ instructions. How many times did you tell your kids to say “please” and “thank you” before it became second nature? Five hundred? How about “brush your teeth” or “feed the dog!” A thousand? If my wife and I adhered to the “obey us the first time” or “I won’t repeat myself” philosophies, our kids would have no teeth and our dog would be dead.
Yesterday I had the day that bear trainers must dream about.
The day the bear (my 10-year old), took his first solo ride on a bike (he did all his chores). It was a breathtaking moment. My son completed all his “inside chores” – without being asked. Then he opened the garage door, marched out, and retrieved the paper. The surge of pride within me was electric. Picture Clark W. Griswold in Christmas Vacation. After trying tirelessly for days to illuminate his yard Clark finally completed the circuit. And like the Griswold’s yard, the lights in my 10-year old’s eyes suddenly turned on.
As my eldest son and I waited in the front seat of my car, ready to depart for school, it was out of the corner of my eye that I saw my 10-year old run to the end of the driveway and scoop up the paper. This seemingly simple task had obviously been shrouded for three years – in a great mystery. But today the veil was lifted. Despite the fact that I could teach my dog to perform this trick in a matter of hours, the shadow of my youngest diligently retrieving the morning paper – seemed like a rite of passage (for both of us).
As I turned to comment to his older brother about the significance of what I’d just witnessed, my youngest ran the newspaper inside to his mom, sprinted to the car, opened the door then joined us for our trip to school. Before I could praise him, he said, “Sorry dad. I threw the paper on the roof.”
Hmmm? Like the trainer watching his bear fall off the tricycle – it took a moment for the words sink in. “I threw the paper on the roof.” Just like that. As if saying, “Your coffee’s ready dad.” My son announced the paper was on the roof; buckled his seat belt, and waited for me to back out of the driveway to head for school. How had I missed my son throwing the paper on the roof? Had he thrown it up there on purpose? He must have, our roof-line is 12 feet 9 inches from the ground (I measured it in my disbelief). Did he throw it like a football…or a discus? Perhaps his flail technique (forget the fact that flails faded from popularity in the Middle Ages)!
Was this some sinister plot? Perhaps a plot to break me? Maybe a plot to frame his brother (a favorite pastime of his – even when it makes no earthly sense why this could be his brother’s fault). Who knows! Ten-year old boys rarely make sense.
As I quickly weighed my options, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I deemed it an accident. Even Paul the Apostle confessed his inability to do the right thing. In Romans Paul says, “For I do not understand my own actions…. for I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.” I suspect the moment the paper flew from my son’s hands…he knew he shouldn’t have done what his eyes were witnessing. But he couldn’t help himself.
I wonder what God thinks when he looks upon me. Am I too like a bear trying to ride a bike? Does God get as frustrated with me as I can get with my sons? After all, I struggle to do the things He asks of me. How many times has God instructed me to “Love my neighbor,” or “Honor my parents,” or “Love my wife?” And how many times has God seen me launch the paper on the roof?
The ride to school was filled with laughter as we replayed my son’s foible. It didn’t seem right to ruin the moment with some heavy-handed lesson about personal responsibility. No, we took turns reenacting the launch sequence and made a great memory out of a funny moment. And when all is said and done, I now have one more trick to teach my bears…how to use a ladder.