The role that I play in our family dynamic is diverse. My job description is long and varied (just like my wife’s, of course). One particular evening I was called upon to be “The Exhauster”. This duty’s requirement is to engage the kids in some sort of vigorous activity to deplete them of their excess energy. With the help of God, the kids will then tire to the point that they go to bed on time, if not earlier. My wife had a long, strenuous day with the children, or, as she calls it, “just another day”. Apparently, the day’s activities had not worn out our kids like they had their mother. My theory in regards to this phenomenon is that kids have the ability to suck the energy out of adults so that they can use it for their own evil purposes. I’m not exactly sure on the science behind this, but it occurs so often and consistently that it has to be close to being fact.
My wife’s idea was for me to take the kids into the basement to play. It was a logical suggestion. However, I too was feeling tired from a day’s work. The last thing I felt like doing at that point was chasing the kids around in our basement while they screamed and threw things at me.
The oldest daughter spoke up first and inquired as to what splendid game we were going to play. I struggled to come up with some ideas but eventually failed miserably. I asked them for suggestions. They did have some creative proposals. However, they all required me to move. So those were lousy in my opinion.
I happened to look up at the treadmill in the corner of the room. And then the greatest idea of modern times hit me. “I’ll put the kids on the treadmill”, I thought to myself. “That’ll wear these people down for sure.”
And so, I did. I called this game, “The Olympic Time Trials”. The kids responded excitedly to the idea and my oldest daughter jumped and shouted, “Me first!”. I turned on the treadmill and instructed my little Olympic hopeful to keep up with the speed. I in turn took my rightful place on the recliner next to the treadmill. Step after step she smiled with self-confidence and utter delight. After a few minutes, my younger daughter hopped on and again the basement was filled with giggles of excitement.
They then switched places and my oldest daughter demanded that this time we go faster. I thought, “Sweet, this will really quicken the wearing down process. I am a genius.”
I then cranked up the dial so that my daughter was now in a fast jog. She lasted only one minute before she jumped off. “That’s enough,” she said while gasping for air. Her sister jumped on then and again I sped up the machine. But as I did so, my daughter lost balance and stepped partially off of the treadmill. This misstep caused her to then trip which in turn caused her to fly off of the piece of equipment.
The good news was that she did not fly far. The bad news was that she didn’t fly far because the wall stopped her. The worst part though was that there was just enough room between the wall and the treadmill to fit her face. I compare the experience to watching a person have a belt sander run across their cheek. Yikes. Unfortunately, my reaction time was slow and my daughter sustained a large wound. It was ugly. Some might even say grotesque.
I brought my daughter upstairs and we eventually settled her down. Once she stopped crying (and bleeding), my wife inevitably demanded that I explain in detail what had happened. As I recited the story to her, I could see the look of disgust come pouring over her face. It is an expression that I have seen before – often. It’s a look that says so many things, but perhaps most poignantly it states, “I married an idiot”. I disagree. I believe my wife married a man who occasionally errors on the side of efficiency. She needs to develop a fresh, more accurate look that expresses the sentiment, ”I married an efficient idiot.” Lord knows she’s going to get the practice.
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