New Kind of Family

My wife and I were talking to some friends the other night about the content of TV shows for kids today and about how family is portrayed in general on TV. These days, family is mostly portrayed in a negative way and usually as dysfunctional. Family members don’t even try to get along with each other, they talk rudely to each other and they are totally disrespectful to one another. There is also disrespect toward the parents and between the parents. What’s a parent to do? Unless you want your kids to hate you, you can’t just ban TV.

Well, there is a cable channel called ABC Family, so they must have family shows scheduled, right? Not so much. ABC Family is nothing close to a family station. Here’s the titles of some of the shows you can see on ABC Family: Pretty Little Liars, The Lying Game, The Secret Life of the American Teenager and 10 Things I Hate About You. When you read what the shows are about it is plain to see that not one family is even semi-normal, and I wonder if any character on any of the shows are well-adjusted. Yeah, it’s “A new kind of family” alright. I’ll stick to the old kind.

I’m not even going to try and convince you that my family always got along with each other. There were nine kids in a fairly small house, including seven boys. Even if I just think about the times I remember most, when the three older ones were married and there were just six of us, there was conflict. However, when there were arguments or fights (not a fist fight, but a war of words) the expectation was that we would work it out. If we couldn’t, or wouldn’t, work it out and get along with each other, Mom had her last alternative – sitting on the couch and facing each other until we were ready to get along. Talking rudely to each other was not allowed – at least not in the presence of Mom or Dad. Disrespect toward our parents? Ah, no, that would not have been tolerated.

We did stuff together, like playing games or playing cards, so we had lots of fun times. But Friday night was a special night in my house when I was growing up. We sat together as a family (maybe after arguing slightly over who got what seat) and watched The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family. These were two good shows about families where people truly cared about each other and yes, even loved each other. They had their fights and arguments and didn’t always agree with each other, just like in real families. But by the end of the show, they had resolved the conflict, made up and moved on. Is it any wonder that people still love the Brady Bunch today?

While we watched the shows, we were munching on M&M’s. We must have gone through a ton of M&M’s! Each of us got a Dixie cup and Mom would count out a specific amount of Plain M&M’s and a specific amount of Peanut M&M’s. It may seem silly to count them out, but it was the only way to make sure that we all got our share. I say specific amount because I’m not really sure how many we got. It may have been 15 plain and 10 peanut, or 20 of each; we’ve talked about it at family parties and there is some disagreement as to the quantities. I don’t remember if the older guys got more than the younger guys, or the same amount. However, we all still remember eating our M&M’s while watching the Brady Bunch.

The hard part was making them last as long as we could. I divided mine up by colors and ate the color that had the most first. I’d eat them one or two at a time and I didn’t chew them, but would let them melt in my mouth (not in my hand!). I have to admit that I had a habit that most people would think is pretty disgusting. When I ate the Peanut M&M’s I would let all the chocolate melt off, then I would put the naked peanuts back into my Dixie cup to be eaten after I had finished all the M&M’s. Pretty gross, I know, but I never had to worry about anyone eating any of the peanuts!

Today, M&M’s are a necessity for any family party or gathering. Of course, there are more than just Plain and Peanut these days, but those are the staples, along with Pretzel. Mom doesn’t count them out for us anymore, but anyone who is taking more than their fair share gets some good-natured ribbing. Nothing disrespectful or rude, just a little reminder that there’s a bunch more of us who want some, too.

It may seem corny or old-fashioned that we sat around together on a Friday night and watched a TV show together, and the Brady Bunch at that, but we all have fond memories of those times. We weren’t the Brady Bunch where everything always turned out just right, but we actually liked each other and being together. We got along with each other for the most part, and when we didn’t we worked it out. I’ll take the “old kind of family” over the “new kind of family” any day.

Senior Moments

I don’t know if I’m having more “senior moments” as I get older or if I’m just more aware of them when they happen, but it sure seems like they are increasing rapidly. There are times I can’t remember the name of an every day item, like remote control, so I sit there sputtering, trying to explain to my son what I’m looking for. It goes something like this:

Me: Have you seen the…thing.

Him: Um, what thing?

Me: (Pausing to think) You know…the thing…for the TV…to change the channels.

Him: (Laughing) The remote?

Me: (Laughing, but feeling a little stupid and slightly angry that I couldn’t remember the name of it) Yeah, the remote.

Him: (Pointing at the object right next to me) It’s right there. Wow!

This is just one example. I forget the names of people I’ve known for years, the names of bands I’ve listened to for years and the words to songs of bands I’ve listened to for years. I forget what things are called, common phrases and well known clichés. I want to say something, but I can’t remember a specific word. It’s right there, just out of reach, taunting me. So far, I haven’t forgotten the names of my wife and kids, or my own name. That would not be good.

I know that I forgot stuff a lot when I was younger, but I think I just didn’t focus on it as much. When you’re a teenager and forget something, even something important, it’s usually casually dismissed. “What do you expect, he’s a teenager. Who knows what’s going on in that head?” Ah, but forget something not the least bit important when you’re in your 40’s or 50’s and you get the having-a-senior-moment treatment, where you get laughed at and told what something is, or who someone is, in a condescending manner (that’s called a telephone, you dial someone’s phone number and you can talk to them). It is kind of funny…when it’s not you. No, actually, even when it is me I laugh most of the time.

I had a good laugh this week at my own expense. I not only had a senior moment, I had a senior morning. I usually drink some kefir in the morning (if you don’t know what that is, click here), but when I got to work I remembered that I hadn’t had any that morning. OK, not a big deal, I don’t have to take it. A little while later, I went to take my daily multi-vitamin and it wasn’t in the container I carry it in. Neither were my other supplement and medication I take. Not taking my vitamin, supplement and medication for one day is not a life-threatening situation, but I definitely feel better taking them every day. Besides, I can just take them when I get home. So I texted my wife and told her all the things I forgot and wondered what I else I forgot that morning. She quickly texted me back and reassured me that it was OK and that we all have our days. And then this at the end, “You have your underwear on, right?” Now that would be a huge senior moment, going commando, because I forgot to put on my underwear. Or even worse than that, wearing them on the outside of my pants.

We had some good laughs at my Mom’s expense growing up. We were always doing stuff, mostly good but some not so good. Mom must have sensed something was going on at times because she would suddenly and unexpectedly show up (she did tell us when we were older that when it was too quiet she figured we were up to no good). When we got caught doing something we weren’t supposed to be doing, she would say our name to get our attention. Or should I say that she tried to say our name. With seven boys she sometimes didn’t get the name right the first time…or the second…or the third. So if she caught me, she’d say, “Billy…Harold…Stephen…you know who you are!” By then, everybody around was laughing, including Mom. Now obviously, these were not situations where anyone’s life was in danger or where we were doing something illegal, we were just doing the stupid things kids sometimes do. It probably would have been easier for her to just call us “You there” or “Hey you” because as soon as she said that we would have stopped whatever we were doing and she wouldn’t have had to go through the list of names. Maybe her plan the whole time was to defuse the situation with laughter. If that’s true, then it was a brilliant plan in my opinion.

Laughing is good for you. Some people even say that laughter is the best medicine. Whatever happens, I’m going to laugh at myself and others like there’s no tomorrow. I just hope I don’t suddenly stop mid-laugh, look around at the other people around me and, wondering what the heck we’re all laughing about, blurt out “Who are you people?”

Puddling

My son and I went to our local D’Angelo’s sandwich shop recently, as it is one of his favorite places to eat. Since I drink a lot of water, I had to go to the men’s room, as usual. As I was washing my hands I noticed one of those “Employees MUST wash their hands” signs. Ya think? There’s probably some state law that says that all restaurants have to put one of those signs in the restrooms, but do we really need a law to tell food handling employees to wash their hands after using the bathroom? Shouldn’t everybody be washing their hands before they leave the bathroom? That is something I was taught as a child and have now taught my kids to do.

As a matter of fact, when I was a kid, washing my hands after using the bathroom might turn into an extended play time. I’d bring some of my little army men and my GI Joe action figure (boys didn’t play with dolls even then) into the bathroom with me, fill up the sink with water and make up all kinds of scenarios. Sometimes they were all just having fun, going swimming in some lake. I’d line them up around the sides of the sink and each one would take a turn jumping in. The more daring men would jump off the cup holder or the soap dish, sometimes doing amazing dives with five or six flips before they hit the water. Sometimes the little army men were the bad guys and GI Joe would come and wipe them all out, throwing them into the water with loud screams and splashes. Sometimes GI Joe was the evil giant and all the good little army men would fight him until he plummeted to his death in the cold water below, but not before a few of the good guys met their demise there, too.

I would also take some of my Matchbox or Hot Wheels cars in with me and play with them in the sink. Sometimes one of the drivers would take a turn too fast, skid around the corner and then drop from the cliff into the ocean below, screaming until the car hit the water. Sometimes the sink was just a big car wash and nobody got hurt or died! Of course, those episodes were not as fun or exciting as the others. And of course I had to do the sound effects. The conversations of the participants, the shots being fired, the tires screeching and the men screaming until they hit the water, mostly done out loud but sometimes only in my head. When the water got too dirty or started getting too cold, I’d put all the guys in the sink, open the drain plug and they’d all fight for their lives as all but one or two got sucked to their death in the whirlpool.

Then I’d refill the sink with water and…usually Mom would come to the bathroom door and ask, “Are you puddling?” That’s what she called our playing in the bathroom sink, puddling. She’d let us puddle for a while and have some fun, but not with multiple sinks full of water. You see, we had only one bathroom for all eleven of us, so someone would want to use the bathroom at some point. And if not, Mom wasn’t going to let us waste that much water. She must have noticed me go in there, heard the toilet flush and the water running in the sink and me not coming out. So when I ran the water the second time – which could have been five minutes or fifty minutes, I was totally lost in the moment and really don’t know how long it was – that was enough time and water for her.  

Most likely Mom wasn’t too mad, though. I probably had the cleanest hands, army men, GI Joe and toy cars in the neighborhood. Something a Mom could be proud of. Unfortunately, we, as a family, almost certainly had the highest water bill in the neighborhood. I guess you take the good with the bad. These days I don’t have any little green army men and my GI Joe action figure is long gone, but every so often while I’m washing my hands I’ll let the soap or the toothpaste take a dive into the lake below. And they’ll be screaming all the way down until they hit the water with a final splash!