“Dog Day Afternoons”
By Rick Kaempfer
When I tell people that I have three little boys, they say: “That must be a zoo.” And while it does seem to be a little zoo-like at times, I think I have a more appropriate analogy. It’s really more like a kennel.
Let me explain.
Like dogs, boys can be man's best friend. One-on-one they are lovable, playful, and accommodating. They come when you call for them and they follow commands pretty well. As long you show them attention, play with them a little bit, throw the ball around with them in the yard so they get some exercise, and feed them regularly, you couldn’t ask for a more loyal companion. When you have one boy, he can pretty much roam the house at will. Mi Casa, Su Casa, son.
Now add one more boy to the house and see what happens. At first they sort of sniff each other out (with boys, sometimes this can be literal) and get a lay of the land. If you watch them closely, and I mean very closely, you can keep the situation under control. They may nip at each other a bit, they may growl or bark, but for the most part if you closely supervise both of them, you’ll be fine.
Add a third boy to the mix and you might as well call animal control. Supervision is no longer possible. At best, you hope to contain potential destruction. Prepare yourself for this. You’ll need to be in shape, you’ll need to think fast, and you’ll need to have some sort of snack in your pocket at all times.
These pack animals (boys) have a system. A favorite trick is to go in three different directions at once, to throw you off their tracks. You'll have to make danger assessments on the spot. Where are they headed? Who can cause the most damage? The best you can do is follow the most dangerous one, and keep an eye on him, but don't forget to keep an ear out for the other two. No matter where they were heading, now that you’ve chosen to follow the dangerous one, the other two are regrouping somewhere.
This inevitably leads to the fight to see which one is the dominant male. This won't be quiet. You'll have no choice; you have to leave the dangerous one to break up the fight. They have sharp teeth and can do major damage if they aren't seperated immediately. While you break it up, however, the dangerous one will get loose and begin hunting for danger. He’s got the nose for it, and he’ll find it. Is that a knife? Sniff, sniff. Is that an electrical socket? Sniff, sniff. What will happen if I put this razor in my mouth? Crunch. I bet this Drano will taste excellent in a sippy cup. Oooh, the stove. Let me just turn this knob here...
You can't worry about that at the moment because you've got a fight to break up. Herd the growling combatants into separate corners and take them on one at a time. Don't forget to keep your cool. Time is ticking--the dangerous one is loose and unsupervised.
The fighters can be returned to that perfect companion pretty quickly with a little positive reinforcement. Simply remain calm, show them attention, and ignore the strange noises coming from the kitchen while you get boy number one calmed down. Sometimes a hug works, but I’ve discovered that a playful belly rub, or a “whose my good boy” works better. (They also like it if you rub them behind the ears) If not, don’t forget about the snack in your pocket. This is a good time to pull it out.
Crash!
OK, don’t fear. That wasn’t coming from the dangerous boy in the kitchen. That noise came from the corner you’ve just herded boy number two. Of course you have to check it out, but do not leave boy number one without taking proper precautions. Point at him, and in a strong, firm voice, say “Stay!”
Then say it again...twice. Here’s a little tip that I’ve learned from years of experience: Always turn around on your way out of the room at least one more time to let them know you mean business. Say it with authority.
“Stay!”
Good. Now, boy two. Take a deep breath before you go talk to him. Keep in mind that whatever he has done has been done to get you away from boy number one. If you make a big deal out of it, you encourage future destruction. Did you really need that vase? My guess is that you didn't. So, don't worry about it too much. Time is ticking. Move boy two as far away from the shards of glass as possible--and let him firmly know you don't approve, but then show some love. I usually go right for the snack. The bigger the snack, the more time you’ve bought for yourself.
Before you can save boy number three from the most dangerous thing in your house (himself), you’ll need to look back in the hallway at boy number one, who by now is slowly slinking out of his corner. One more firm “Stay!” should buy you enough time to make it into the kitchen. Boy number three will have likely caused quite a bit of damage by this time, so you have to take immediate action. I recommend picking him up and sticking his nose right into the mess. It’s the only way he’ll learn.
NO DRANO! (nose right up to the bottle) NO! HOT! NO STOVE! (nose right up to the switch) NO! NO ELECTRIC SOCKET! OUCHIE! (nose right up to the socket) NO! SHARP! OUCHIE! (nose right up to the knife) NO RAZOR! OUCHIE! NO! WHAT’S THAT IN YOUR MOUTH? SPIT IT OUT. (put hand right into his mouth, pull out razor, stick it up to his nose) NO!
This boy needs to seperated from the pack and returned to his kennel...er..um... I mean bedroom. Don’t forget to toss a snack to each of the other boys on your way to the third boy's bedroom—and give them one more firm “Stay.”
If you've got earplugs, put 'em in. Boy number three will cry and whine and scratch at the door while he’s kept in his room, but at least he’ll know why he’s in trouble, and he won't be around while you're sweeping up the mess of boy two.
Whew.
That's what happens before mealtime. When they start smelling what you're making in the kitchen they will usually come begging. They'll pant as they pepper you with questions...
"What are you making Dad?"
"When is dinner Dad?"
"Is that my plate?"
"Is it done yet?"
"Is it done yet?"
"Is it done yet?"
"Is it done yet?"
This is usually when you snap and scream: "SIT!"
Like I said, it's like a kennel.
The scenario I’ve described above is what happens in my house every day between 4:00—6:30 p.m. or so. After the two older boys come home from school and before my wife comes home from work, it’s complete bedlam. And this is within the completely controlled confines of our home. What do you think happens when we have to do something in public?Let’s just say that I no longer judge parents who buy those leashes. They make sense on so many different levels.
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