This post originally appeared on my other blog in May, 2016
We’re on the disabled list here at The Traumatic Parenting Workshop Headquarters, and while we wait to rejoin the starting lineup, I had the privilege of talking to my daughter’s elementary school at Career Day. I’d like to take this opportunity to clarify some comments I made.
There were too many police officers and firemen in the room to make “selling a cloud-based application development platform” interesting on its own. As a note to myself, next year I’ll have to wear a uniform… something out of Star Trek should do perfectly well (quick Shout Out to my lovely red headed wife who agreed to go out with me nine years ago today and HAS NEVER REGRETTED IT!). A uniform should compensate for the fact that I didn’t have a skeleton (like the orthopedic surgeon), masks for the kids (like the ER doc), or stories, or anything else interesting.
It turned out I had something far more fascinating.
As soon my daughter boasted, “my daddy’s leg is purple,” I couldn’t have been more fascinating if I’d brought the rocket that carried me from Krypton. All of a sudden, everyone seemed to want to hear more about the Internet. I suspect this to be the turning point of my morning because immediately afterward, I received several questions along the lines of, “I have a question for Mr. Mehlman about the Internet and why is your leg purple?” and “I like clouds. Can I see your foot?”
One of the difference between adults and children is that children generally can’t wait to show off any injury. As adults? We generally ache too much to make the effort.
No, I was never going to hike up my pant leg to show my bruise, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about how much it would hurt to actually do so.
As a side note, there’s a child in my daughter’s class that is always ready to show me his stitches and scars. Often times, he wants to check out how badly his band aid smells. Are all boys like this? He can’t possibly be alone.
Anyway, I explained that I hurt my leg playing basketball. The rebound putback I attempted became a dunk and then a two-handed slam. At some point I asked for different questions because there was nowhere else to go.
So, yeah, I lied a little bit. I don’t think the kids really cared.
Maybe they were too enthralled to listen.