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| Remember when he was this little and he didn't judge??? |
Children can be terribly judgemental at times and I know that this is shocking to no one.
Whoever told Garrett that every time a police car is around, someone is going to jail needs to be beaten. And I am only 30% sure that this person wasn’t me.
You can’t go over the speed limit or he will easily flip his shit. One night Christy, Garrett, Whitman and myself were heading to eat dinner at the local Mexican restaurant and we drove exactly 40 miles an hour the whole way. Garrett didn’t start to freak out until he saw a police car parked in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Screaming, face pulling, crying and hyperventilation ensued.
He was convinced that Christy was speeding and were about to be pulled over and everyone in the car would be taken to jail, including him and Whitman. I don’t know how many times I have told him that children his age and younger can’t be taken to jail. He remains unconvinced.
Saturday I had to take him and Whitman to the zoo for an event for MDA for my sister. Christy had to be there super early, so the kids could sleep a little longer and not drive her crazy while she did work things, I was happy to take them up there for her at a later time. In order to get to the zoo from Collierville I had to get on the interstate and I feared that this would invoke the wrath of Garrett and his speeding phobia. It did.
As soon as I merged onto 385, he started to freak out, “STOP SPEEDING!” and so on and so forth. I assured him I wasn’t going any faster than the people in front of me. As long as we are all going the same speed, no one will go to jail. He was quiet for a minute but I could see the terror quietly building. He kept it at bay long enough to negotiate:
Garrett: “Go back to the 2.”
Me: “You want me to go 20 miles an hour on the interstate?”
Garrett: “Yes.”
Me: “That seems unreasonable.”
Garrett: “No it’s not.”
I refused because that is insanity and I won’t let a 5-year-old backseat drive me and he started screaming for me to stop speeding again and again until I had to pull out the Mean Aunt Stacey voice and tell him that I have heard enough and to please chill out until we got the zoo. He was in no danger and no one was going to jail.
I have no doubt that after I dropped them off and made sure they were safely in the zoo, he told anyone who would listen that we narrowly escaped jail. I would shrug his speeding freak-outs off as a kid just trying to make sure no one goes to jail, but I feel this is just the tip of the OCD iceberg.
He is going to be really annoying when he starts attending D.A.R.E. meetings at school. It’s a large fear I have.
I remember attending those at school and being terrified at the thought of drugs and alcohol especially when they said, “Don’t let your parents fool you, alcohol is a DRUG!” I don’t think that is exactly what they said but it was something along those lines. My parents don’t drink so I was never really terrified that they were going to become junkies free basing in our laundry room. I hardly ever saw alcohol and when I did it was either on TV or at Catholic weddings which I used to cater (yes, I used to cater weddings when I was a child. True story. Maybe one day I will tell you about it.) I figured I didn’t know any of those people so their abuse of the evils of alcohol meant nothing to me. Such is not the case with Garrett.
He already tells his Kindergarten teacher that all his parents and aunt do is sit around drinking cold beer (he calls it “cold beer” never just “beer” the kid is smart, he knows beer should always be cold) all day long which…isn’t entirely untrue. So I have a feeling when he is formally taught that alcohol is bad for you and leads to all kinds of bad things, we are all in for some rough times.
Is he going to run screaming at us, arms flailing, trying to knock the drinks out of our hands? Are we going to get lectured every time we crack open a cold beer? Are we going to be silently judged by a child for the next 10 years until he turns 15 (!) and he starts drinking for himself? Is he going to call Child Services on us for drinking a few beverages a day a week?
In all honesty I picture it going something like this: Ron, Christy or myself will be drinking something that isn’t tea or Juicy Juice and Garrett will say something along the lines of “Stop drinking alcohol! It’s bad for you! You’re going to get a fat booty!” And after the 143rd time this happens, and we are tired of trying to explain to him that we aren’t alcoholics and that we will be okay, we just send him to his room with no cold beer.
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