Parent in Training - Timing is Everything
My son has taught me much about timing and keeping commitments. One of my big lessons came when he was about 6 years old and playing organized baseball for the first time.
by Jim Fair | Source: Catholic.net
My son has taught me much about timing and keeping commitments.
One of my big lessons came when he was about 6 years old and playing organized baseball for the first time. He wanted to get better and asked if I would play pitch-and-catch with him when I got home from work. Of course, I replied.
The next night, he was waiting on the back step with his mitt, my mitt and a ball. I patted him on the head, said hello and went into the house. I said hello to my wife, perused the pile of mail (mostly bills) and wandered into the bedroom to change into my “pitch-and-catch” clothes.
Then I wandered out the back door to play with my son. It didn’t take me long to realize that he had fallen into a rather glum mood, so I asked him what was wrong.
“You said we would play when you got home from work,” he said. I replied that we were doing precisely that, to which he pointed out that I had done lots of stuff before playing with him – I hadn’t played when I got home from work like I said I would.
The next day, he was waiting on the back step. I put down my briefcase, tossed my sport coat on the railing and decided I could be comfortable throwing a baseball in dress slacks, shirt and tie.
My son was happy that I focused on him. My dry-cleaning bill went up. It was a reasonable trade.
Jim Fair writes from Chicago, Illinois. His columns also appear in The National Catholic Register
One of my big lessons came when he was about 6 years old and playing organized baseball for the first time. He wanted to get better and asked if I would play pitch-and-catch with him when I got home from work. Of course, I replied.
The next night, he was waiting on the back step with his mitt, my mitt and a ball. I patted him on the head, said hello and went into the house. I said hello to my wife, perused the pile of mail (mostly bills) and wandered into the bedroom to change into my “pitch-and-catch” clothes.
Then I wandered out the back door to play with my son. It didn’t take me long to realize that he had fallen into a rather glum mood, so I asked him what was wrong.
“You said we would play when you got home from work,” he said. I replied that we were doing precisely that, to which he pointed out that I had done lots of stuff before playing with him – I hadn’t played when I got home from work like I said I would.
The next day, he was waiting on the back step. I put down my briefcase, tossed my sport coat on the railing and decided I could be comfortable throwing a baseball in dress slacks, shirt and tie.
My son was happy that I focused on him. My dry-cleaning bill went up. It was a reasonable trade.
Jim Fair writes from Chicago, Illinois. His columns also appear in The National Catholic Register
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