Well, as a dad who is raising a 9-year-old daughter somewhat later in life, I have to say everyday is still an adventure.
This past week has also reminded me that sometimes the old Dog can learn a few things from the young one.
Cora is at that age where she has "her" activities with friends from school, and I have my typical activities. As one would guess, quite often the two are as different as night and day. It's difficult, but I do my best.
On one hand, she has the princess/fairytale/wonderland atmosphere she shares with her friends. On the other hand, she has the stark reality of everyday life that she sees on a daily basis with Dad.
It's always a battle when I'm in the shop. She wants to "play" with all the different tools. But let's face it, for safety concerns sometimes it's best not to have someone else in the direct vicinity. But sometimes she'll stay a safe distance away because she's interested in whatever I'm doing. She's fascinated with the process of something being transformed from starting material to finished product.
A few scenarios occurred this week to remind me that no matter what we "teach" them, children truly are imaginative and ingenious.
Cora has decided she knows all there is to know about plumbing.
Last week she watched Dad clear a slow drain in the bathtub. After watching me pull the clog out of the trap, she now knows what causes a drain to drain slowly.
Her response: "That's OK, Daddy. I still love you even though you let the drain steal your hair."
She's been slowly learning to cook, too. I've taught her that good food is actually made from ingredients that we prepare ourselves.
So we have one of the cutting boards out, gettin' down to business on the fresh veggies for a lasagna. I stop to answer the phone, and while I'm on the phone Cora asks if she can put the scrap peels in the sink "like Dad does". Thinking she means the garbage disposal, I say OK. Problem is, she puts it in the rinse side of the sink without the disposal.
So I tell her the scraps have to be ground up in the disposal in order to prevent a clogged drain, and I remind her about the bathtub drain.
Her response: "We need TWO garbage disposals."
She has also decided she can learn more about energy at home than she'll ever learn in science class at school.
It's bedtime, and she comes crying to me, holding her little Tinkerbell night light. "It's broken!", she cries.
Understand this is the night light she has had since she was born, and she considers it one of her most prized possessions.
I take a look, and the bulb is blown. (It's one of the tiny clear incandescent bulbs.) So she asks me how I can be so sure it's just a bad bulb.
Taking advantage of a "teaching" opportunity, I show her how the filament is broken. Soon this leads to a one minute crash course on how electricity used in a controlled manner heats the filament and causes it to glow, producing light, and this is why that type of light bulb is hot when it's on.
I tell her how the hot steel gives off light when it's pulled out of the forge.
Our kitchen oven is electric with exposed coils, and I reminded her how bright the coils were when we baked the lasagna.
In under a minute flat, she's got the concept down pat.
So we go to the closet to get a new bulb for her night light, and we don't have any! What to do? It's too late to go to the store.
Her response: "That's OK, Daddy. We'll take that little oven you cook the knives in and put it in my room. It'll give me all the light I need."
I am truly blessed.
Rob
This past week has also reminded me that sometimes the old Dog can learn a few things from the young one.
Cora is at that age where she has "her" activities with friends from school, and I have my typical activities. As one would guess, quite often the two are as different as night and day. It's difficult, but I do my best.
On one hand, she has the princess/fairytale/wonderland atmosphere she shares with her friends. On the other hand, she has the stark reality of everyday life that she sees on a daily basis with Dad.
It's always a battle when I'm in the shop. She wants to "play" with all the different tools. But let's face it, for safety concerns sometimes it's best not to have someone else in the direct vicinity. But sometimes she'll stay a safe distance away because she's interested in whatever I'm doing. She's fascinated with the process of something being transformed from starting material to finished product.
A few scenarios occurred this week to remind me that no matter what we "teach" them, children truly are imaginative and ingenious.
Cora has decided she knows all there is to know about plumbing.
Last week she watched Dad clear a slow drain in the bathtub. After watching me pull the clog out of the trap, she now knows what causes a drain to drain slowly.
Her response: "That's OK, Daddy. I still love you even though you let the drain steal your hair."
She's been slowly learning to cook, too. I've taught her that good food is actually made from ingredients that we prepare ourselves.
So we have one of the cutting boards out, gettin' down to business on the fresh veggies for a lasagna. I stop to answer the phone, and while I'm on the phone Cora asks if she can put the scrap peels in the sink "like Dad does". Thinking she means the garbage disposal, I say OK. Problem is, she puts it in the rinse side of the sink without the disposal.
So I tell her the scraps have to be ground up in the disposal in order to prevent a clogged drain, and I remind her about the bathtub drain.
Her response: "We need TWO garbage disposals."
She has also decided she can learn more about energy at home than she'll ever learn in science class at school.
It's bedtime, and she comes crying to me, holding her little Tinkerbell night light. "It's broken!", she cries.
Understand this is the night light she has had since she was born, and she considers it one of her most prized possessions.
I take a look, and the bulb is blown. (It's one of the tiny clear incandescent bulbs.) So she asks me how I can be so sure it's just a bad bulb.
Taking advantage of a "teaching" opportunity, I show her how the filament is broken. Soon this leads to a one minute crash course on how electricity used in a controlled manner heats the filament and causes it to glow, producing light, and this is why that type of light bulb is hot when it's on.
I tell her how the hot steel gives off light when it's pulled out of the forge.
Our kitchen oven is electric with exposed coils, and I reminded her how bright the coils were when we baked the lasagna.
In under a minute flat, she's got the concept down pat.
So we go to the closet to get a new bulb for her night light, and we don't have any! What to do? It's too late to go to the store.
Her response: "That's OK, Daddy. We'll take that little oven you cook the knives in and put it in my room. It'll give me all the light I need."
I am truly blessed.
Rob
