When my wife and I had our son Kyle, we thought we were the best parents in the world. Then we had our daughter, Kara.
Kara has always seen the world from a unique perspective. Since I was present at its birth, I can verify that it is indeed a bear and was not changed at birth as some kind of cosmic joke.
From her point of view, if you have a problem with something she is doing, you have a problem and you will have to overcome it.
His first teacher at school turned out to be a former classmate of mine. Connie had been teaching kindergarten for many years and seemed a perfect fit for the job. During our first Parent Night, Kara’s teacher used a phrase that has stuck with me. “Kara, is given to fiction.” If you have to call someone a liar, this should be the most pleasant way possible. Connie stopped teaching that year. Just a coincidence, I’m sure.
One morning after Sunday School, Kara’s Sunday School teacher came up to my wife and me and said he was surprised that we were both there. When we asked him why, he said, “Well, what about Kyle who broke his arm and everything …” “Kyle, did he break his arm?” my wife asked in surprise, “When? How?” At that moment, my son Kyle came running towards us, both arms obviously fine. The poor thing looked as if his screen had frozen. “But Kara said …” “Oh, you have Kara in your class,” I replied sympathetically.
Kara explained later that the teacher asked if anyone had any prayer requests. No one spoke, so Kara came up with something to pray about. She told everyone that Kyle had broken his arm and that his parents had spent the entire day in the hospital with him receiving the bone and the cast. I have no idea where this story came from. No one in our family had ever broken an arm. The poor Sunday school teacher just walked away in shock.
While my two sons were in elementary school, I got a call that my son had been fighting at school and had to go take them to the doctor. Obviously, some stitches may be necessary to close a head wound. Naturally, I assumed it was my son. But no, it was my girl. I started to get irritated that a boy had abused my innocent little darling when Kara said, “Don’t be mad at him, Dad, I started it!”
One day I was introducing him to a friend of mine. To be funny, he said, “So you’re the snot-eating idiot.” Kara immediately turned around and hit me, “Dad, you told her!” His reaction, of course, made it clear that his lucky guess was in the money.
If your child makes you wonder if he will survive his upbringing, take comfort in knowing that one day he will have children and you will be avenged.