About a year ago Brennan was sliding across our living room floor and slid a bit too far, going hands first through a window. The result was a tremendous amount of blood and 27 stitches which left a very noticeable u shaped scar on the outside of his left wrist. As you might imagine the experience was traumatic for everyone, and Brennan was babied for several days, ate way too much ice cream and a was offered a regrettable foray through the aisles of Toys R' Us where he exploited my intense sympathy for children in pain.
Brennan occasionally employs these little techniques; and whether or not he is expressing a real concern, we tend to ignore him until he settles down and can talk rationally. If the concern is real, we tend to have a pretty good conversation when things simmer. If the concern isn't real, when it's brought up later Brennan giggles and admits he was "just mad." So, Lori ignored the sadistic threat of bloodied socks and gave him some time to calm down upstairs. After about 5 minutes she went up and asked if he was ready to head downstairs to rebuild the Lego city he had decimated. He responded affirmatively, but said he would "need to put his hands through the window first...then Daddy will just have to meet us at the hospital." (that was real emotion, after all, I was not honoring our day and he needed to play). Lori responded that this was one way to make that happen, but "daddy will be home soon, so let's just wait." Brennan followed her downstairs with socks on his hands...stood in front of the window...moved the curtain to one side...moved Ava's baby toys away from the spot where his blood would fall...then proceeded to punch the window...with about the same force I just used to press the space bar with my right thumb. Lori witnessed the whole thing and started dying with laughter as our little Brennan showed his ability to make good on his word, coupled with his inability to do anything too terribly damaging. After being satisfied with his level of expressed obstinacy he stopped...took off the socks...and returned to being the kid we know and love; like he had awakened from a dream, returning to the conscious state where he smiles and shares.
Unfaithfulness to my wife has never been a real option (I cannot imagine sharing that level of intimacy with another person because I happen to find fatal flaws in other people pretty easily; seventeen years of knowing Lori and I'm still looking for a deal breaker) however, there have been a handful of occasions where the thought crosses my mind, "if she doesn't knock this off, she is going to be sorry. I will walk down to Green Street right now, and I will find a girlfriend." The reality is, even though I may have this thought, and I may even walk to the door with shoes on my feet (and socks on my hands), there is no way this thought will turn into action. My threat of a "hike on the Appalachian Trail" (which in my case would mean a salacious trip to Brasil, not Argentina) is so far from what I'm capable of, that the mental threat is absurd, laughable even. I have an idea of what consequences follow this disregard of covenants, this misuse of trust, this blatant and raw betrayal. As in the case of Brennan's would-have-been sliced hands, unfaithfulness would do harm to many, but I'd be left with the real scars. This inability to follow through on damaging impulses is a god send. Sometimes I type out email responses to people who have supposedly wronged me. The message is created to restore justice, yet it is never sent. The threat is completely hollow. And I don't necessarily feel better, but for whatever reason I have to prove to myself that "I will do this thing, just watch me," knowing full well that the thing will never be done. Perhaps I am projecting my own experience onto Brennan, but I'd like to think there are pertinent parallels. That these threats which we play out in our head are driven by the same need to take back control of a situation and be in charge. To show that we can inflict more pain than is being inflicted upon us in this moment. I am capable of this thing, just watch me. But to overcome the impulse and weigh out the consequences can be quite liberating and can offer insight into myself and the "offender; " for me, this insight is the silver-lining in painful encounters or uncomfortable conflicts. Christians may call this surrender, or forgiveness; Buddhists would call it vijjā, or knowledge. My friend Sam might call it "insufficient testicular fortitude" (Sam's at Harvard...those of us with average IQs call this "no balls"). Whatever it is I'm glad Brennan didn't go through with it. The first incident with the window produced a wicked cut and more blood than a Sarah Palin moose hunt. As for me, I am sure if I were to ever go for a "hike on the Appalachian Trail" (my new most favorite euphemism), the bloodshed would be about the same.
* this was a shameless attempt to sound like a legitimate writer. Have no fear, the writing is for a college textbook on compensation and benefits.
Shameless attempt at writing? This was PHENOMENAL... I'm just wondering if my facebook status would do it justice... but regardless... it needs to be shared. This was marvelous.
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