So I just wrote the title to my post, and realized it kinda has a "Beer for My Hor-ses" ring to it.
Today, The Captain had a rough day at school.
Just like any other day, really.
Now that he is in K-4, his daily behavior is monitored by "Dots".
One dot, a warning.
Two dots, a timeout with your head down.
Three dots, death row.
Or something like that.
The Captain's MO (modus operandi) seems to hover at the Two Dot mark.
Every day, we pick him up from the Butterworth camp, and say, "How many?"
And it's usually, "ugh. Two Dots Mom."
But since he is learning that azul means blue and that 1 followed by a 5 is 15, we're kinda cutting him a little slack with the dots.
I mean, it's the Captain we're talking about here.
And then there was today.
A typical Two Dot day.
Or so I thought.
Until I asked, (which we habitually do), what was the inappropriate behavior that caused the Two Dots?
Captain: "Ugh! I just don't want to tell you about this stuff! Ugh!"
Hurricane Rojo: "Jake, why did you get the first dot?"
Captain: "Ugh! I was goofing off and being la la la la la WILD while my teacher was getting ready to read the book."
Hurricane Rojo: "Jake, why were you getting la la la la la WILD while your teacher was getting to read your story?"
Captain: "Ugh! Mom! She wasn't EVEN reading yet! If she was READING, I would NOT have been la la la la la WILD! She wasn't ready!"
(Hurricane Rojo's expertise with the Art of War by the great Sun Tsu has led her to the conclusion that this engagement cannot be won and has decided to move onward to the Battle of Two Dots).
Hurricane Rojo: "Jake, what were you doing when you got your second dot?"
Captain: "Ugh! Mom! I DO NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS ANY MORE AND WHAT ARE WE HAVING FOR SUPPER? NOTHING?? NOTHING?? NOTHING??"
Aside - what the hell does supper have to do with the dots, and since when do we have NOTHING?? NOTHING?? NOTHING?? on the menu?
Hurricane Rojo: "Jake, I am going to ask you one more time, why did you get your second dot?"
Captain: (stops in the middle of the parking lot, throws his backpack on the asphalt, waves his arms in the air, and screams at the top of his lungs) "BECAUSE I WAS WRESTLING ON TOP OF BEN! THAT'S WHY! ARE YOU DONE WITH THIS NOW?"
The Captain recently started wress-a-ling. The real kind. With mats. And shoes. And headgear. And RULES.
And Rule #1 with the Coach was:
NO WRESTLING ANY WHERE, EVER EXCEPT AT WRESTLING PRACTICE ON THE MAT!
So the Wress-A-Ling Sparrow knew he was in for it.
The thrown backpack and flailing arms kinda gave it away.
We finally get in the car, and I decide to reach for my psychologist hat, and put it on for a few minutes.
Dr. Rojo: "Jake, let's start our afternoon over, okay?"
Dr. Rojo: "Jake, were you having problems with your listening ears today?"
A very calm Captain responds, very quietly, "Yes."
Light bulb! Am I genius? Have I discovered a problem? Found the solution? Press on, Dr. Rojo, press on!
Dr. Rojo: "Jake, what are the problems you had with your listening ears today?"
Captain: "Mom. It's sad."
Dr. Rojo: "Really, Jake? It's sad?"
Captian: "Yeah Mom. Sad."
Dr. Rojo: "Jake, can we fix the problem with your listening ears?"
Captain: "Yeah Mom, I think I can, if you'll let me."
I'm hitting the pause button.
What the fork is this kid talking about? I don't know what hat I'm wearing, what dot we're on, what the hell he did, why he freaked out and tried to pile drive his best friend at school, and what could possibly cause him a sad reaction involving asking permission to fix his ears?
Am I the only one who needs a map through this post?
Dr. Rojo: "Jake, how can I help you fix your listening ears?"
Captain: "Mom, I need to stick my drill and my screwdriver and my sticks up into my ears and fix them cuz they broke today. They just don't work, and I gotta fix them cuz I don't want no more dots!"
Dr. Rojo: "Jake - are you sure the only way to fix your listening ears is by sticking your tools into them?"
Captain: "Yeah mom. They are really broke. I mean bad broke."
Thankfully, at the dinner table, Billy Two Swords told him he was going to have to tell his coach that he wrestled outside the lines, and that his claim that his listening ears were broken and needed to be 'fixed' by tools was ridiculous.
Again, could someone please tell me why I went to college , exactly?
In the words of the illustrious Captain Jake Sparrow, "UGH!"