Saturday, October 10, 2009

pretzels are tenfold

Lucian has been a bit mean lately. He harasses his sister, which, I'm assuming is natural. My brother was a relentless little prick. But that's a family thing. Today, I watched my son, my innocent little son, kick a kid just for the hell of it, while the kid was sacked out on the ground after a slide tackle gone horribly awry. So, after soccer was over, after I loaded the kids in the car (which tends to stink up quickly because they both have some badass B.O. after these little games), I tried to explain to Lucian about karma and its very surprising visitation on wrongdoers.
He didn't get it.
"What's tenfold mean?" he asked, pinching his sister's arm to watch her freak out.
"It means that whatever you do, especially the mean stuff, will come back really strong on you."
He giggled. "Does it buy toys for you if you're nice?"
"Um, no."
After several more minutes of him torturing Anna in the backseat and me screaming at him in tones that I swear were audible in Paris, I took him by his little pipe cleaner arm and dragged him into the kitchen. I grabbed a pretzel out of the cupboard.
"See this pretzel?"
"This is the mean thing that you did to Anna. Get it?"
"Ok." I put the pretzel on the floor and with my giant, mens' biker boot, I pulverized the thing.
Of course the pretzel became a pile of dust, 90 times larger than when it was an actual pretzel."
"See that pile of pretzel shit?"
"That's what will happen to you when you do something bad to someone else. It's always gonna be worse for you."
He turned very pale, no doubt clicking on the files in his head in which his demonic behavior caused someone else pain.
"That's not good."
"No, buddy, it's not good."
Off he went. I think he got it, but we'll see. I also made him clean up the pretzel with the dustpan.

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