On Saturday night, he had a ball pressing the numbers on my phone’s calculator app. It kept him entertained for hours. He’d touch the digits and laugh as I recite what he just pressed. He was hysterical when he tapped, and I said, “parentheses”.
He does love other things that are more appropriate for his age: like waffles, Elmo, hockey, and baked beans. But the whole numbers thing is a strange obsession. While I’m driving, he sits in his car seat in the back and counts to 20 (usually skipping a few numbers), over and over. And over. And… you get the picture
Why not think of this as two weeks’ worth of Wordless Wednesdays? (try saying that five times fast!). Though, because I tend to be incredibly verbose, I’ve given up on the Wordless part.
Anyway, here’s the Wordless Wednesday post I had planned for last week:
* * *
As I’ve mentioned before, I tend to keep my personal Facebook page, well, personal. Everyone that I call a “friend” on the social networking site is someone that I trust and would truly call a friend in real life. I don’t fill it up with casual acquaintances — there are plenty of grade-school and high-school classmates (even the bullying type) whose friend-requests have gone unacknowledged.
Some, I will admit, are “second-degree” friends. People that I’ve met through my wife or other friends, and gotten along with well.
Yesterday evening, in my newsfeed, I saw that she had posted a joke about a boy eating cookies and getting diabetes, preceded by “Here’s a joke one of my 3rd grade students told me today.” You’ve probably heard the whole thing before. I won’t repeat it here.
On on hand, I didn’t find the joke funny. On the other hand, judging by the comments and “likes”, many people did.
On one hand, there are a ton of misconceptions out there, and accusations that go along with them. On the other hand, I’ve never been a target of those accusations.
On one hand, I could be oversensitive. On the other hand, I’m sure I’m guilty of telling an inappropriate joke or two myself over the years.
The person who posted this is a really sweet, fun, bubbly-personality kind of girl. Someone who’s always smiling and sees the bright side of everything, and the kind of person who makes other people around her better. Unfriending (or de-friending, or whatever those young whippersnappers are calling it these days) is not even a remote consideration.
So I stepped in with a comment of my own, saying non-confrontationally, that “It is my moral obligation to assure everyone that eating cookies does NOT cause diabetes. This is a misconception that doesn’t need to be reinforced. Now, down from my soapbox.”
The comment that followed, from someone who I do not know, was “Childhood diabetes is no joke…what does a young boy know.”
Followed by another comment from the original poster “Sorry Scott! I knew this might strike a nerve.” That one was awkward.
I left one more response to the post and then left it alone.
Honestly, I’m not sure what to do or what to think. I don’t want to be “that person” who complains all the time. The “token diabetic” that makes people stop laughing and having fun when I walk in the room.
Yet it warrants complaining. And though these comments and misconceptions haven’t really affected me personally, I know that others have felt guilt or shame because of them — and I felt the need to speak up.
I’m also not sure which upsets me more — that the joke was told by my friend or by a third-grade student. Perhaps the third-grader didn’t know better. Perhaps the kid just didn’t know any better. Perhaps there isn’t anyone in his school with diabetes. Or if there is, the student may just know about it.
Or maybe there is, and maybe he does. Many people, myself included, are diagnose prior to entering grade number three. I assure you it had nothing to do with eating cookies.
How would you respond
After such a somber post yesterday, let’s lighten things up a bit and award some great prizes! Shall we?
I have nothing to give away, but remember: the greatest prize is the satisfaction of knowing that you’ve done well.
Based on your comments this month, I’ve learned some interesting things: that everyone wants to have a baby (the A1C post), and not to invest in the sugar-free syrup business (the sticky math post). There have certainly been some interesting discussions.
But there can only be three winners. And here we go…
If someone said three years from now
You’d be long gone
I’d stand up and punch them out
Cause they’re all wrong
I know better
Cause you said forever
And ever, who knew?
-Pink, “Who Knew?”
A woman passed away a few days ago. I never had a chance to meet her, but when she got married and had two children, this surely wasn’t part of her plans.
Her husband is a fraternity brother of mine; he’s the same age as me. His wife the same age as my wife. Their oldest child the same age as my oldest.