The trouble with the pharmacy is that they know you really aren't going to go anywhere else because they have the medicine we need, and its not like I can whip up a batch of Amoxicillin in my kitchen. If I dislike a grocery store there are plenty of others to choose from. Pharmacies on the other hand leave us with fewer choices. Grocery stores are mostly open 24 hours, whereas pharmacies are closer to bankers hours.
So I pull up to our friendly neighborhood Walgreens around 7:00 last night and there were 4 cars in the drive through so I decided we would go inside (some of you may remember what happened the last time I took the kids inside the pharmacy). Antonio, Angelo and I went in and waited in line which apparently is of lower priority than the drive through line because we stood in line for 5 minutes and never saw a pharmacist. So like last time we went to the drink aisle and found a nice big bottle of cream soda...full of fast-acting sugar.
Now I will be the first to admit that I didn't have in mind what the end result would be. This was really half nagging kids (endlessly hearing "Daddy I'm thirsty") and half mad-science experiment (I wonder what would happen if I loaded the kids up on sugar and let them run free in Walgreens)? Well they were surprisingly tame for about two minutes until the liquid hyperactivity began to work its mojo. Still at the back of the line the kids slowly began to bounce up and down while fighting for sips of cream soda. Then as-expected the bouncing turned into jumping and stomping. Then the kids made their way over the the patient seating area where they began to jump up and down on the chairs while chanting "we love cream soda." Now I can stop this at anytime by enforcing my parental 1-2-3 magic, but I decide to stoke the flame by simply telling them that they are too loud...which never works but gives the outward appearance that I wanted them to stop when secretly I was telling them to jump higher and make more noise.
No sooner did this happen then I hear the pharmacist call for backup over the loudspeaker. I need Angie to the pharmacy we have a code cream soda...well maybe that's not verbatim but that's what I heard. Poor Angie. She began to pull people out of line in front of me and then while she wasn't even finished with the customer ahead of me she invited me up to claim our prescription. The prescription was sitting in the box behind her and she rung it up along with the cream soda which I was more than happy to pay for and we were on our way.
Yesterday marked the turning of a page for me as a father. I finally realized that I can harness the power of my children to get what I want out of people who otherwise would not care. Do I feel bad about that? No I don't. Because not only did I get my stuff faster, but so did everyone else in line. So the Walgreens staff had to witness my boys turn the pharmacy seating area into their own personal bounce house...the customers were all laughing and smiling at the antics anyway. In this instance I used a $1.39 bottle of cream soda as I would use my toll tag to breeze through the express lanes on the highway. People pay for convenience as evidenced by toll roads. Yesterday I made the pharmacist pay for my inconvenience and everyone waiting in line was better off for it.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Early Childhood Battle Tactics
My older two boys have definitely had it in for me the last week or so. I don't think they woke up with the mindset of trying to get under Daddy's skin, but I assure you that their tactics have been successful at achieving that end. Allow me to chronicle their battle tactics.
Day 1:
The enemy advanced stealthily downstairs around 6:30 AM.They began their reconnaissance mission by standing at the foot of the bed and observing the sleeping giants. They then proceeded to commence operation Rooster Crow by getting into a wrestling match at the bottom of the bed.Talk about a rude awakening.
Day 2:
Impelled by the success of operation Roster Crow the bandits setup their base camp in the play room upstairs and began hurtling toys down the stairs at 6:00 AM. New Winter Olympic sport: Matchbox car jump down the banister. The kicker was the minefield at the bottom of the stairs that prevented my bull rush attack and provided ample time for the enemy to retreat. Classic guerrilla warfare.
Day 3:
No rude awakening to speak of but this temporary armistice is tentative at best. We enjoy a mildly pleasant day until dinner time rolls around. Yes, dinner is still a chore. The boys can be well-behaved all day, but when we sit down at the table as a family prepare for a showdown.The boys simultaneously launch into operation Eat No Greens. Not only do they refuse to eat anything that never walked, flew or swam, but they even refuse to share space on the dinner plate with veggies. They even go so far as to push veggies off of their plates and onto the dinner table to avoid commingling. Apparently veggies now have cooties and the meat can't even touch the veggies lest the meat become contaminated. Early bedtimes ensue.
Day 4:
Full frontal assault by the enemy. The ceaseless bickering is enough to drive us insane. Luckily we have been expecting this battle for days and we are prepared. With wooden spoons in hand we relentlessly chase the heathens back up the stairs to their respective rooms where time outs and spankings abound.
Day 5:
The counter attack: Divide and Conquer. As parents we present a unified front, and having already discussed our battle plan (and scarcely being able to withstand the near constant barrage) we immediately launch into action at the first skirmish of the day. Our counter insurgency plan is simple: we will split up the boys and no longer allow them to play together. Amazingly this is worse for them than any other punishment we could imagine. Victory at last. The 5 Day War ends as abruptly as it began.
We thought the boys (not to mention ourselves) would enjoy some time apart since they are constantly at each others throats, but ultimately they longed for the camaraderie. I think they finally realized that they should treat each other a little better if for no other reason than to have someone to commiserate. This is one battle tactic that will remain in our parental repertoire for years to come.
Day 1:
The enemy advanced stealthily downstairs around 6:30 AM.They began their reconnaissance mission by standing at the foot of the bed and observing the sleeping giants. They then proceeded to commence operation Rooster Crow by getting into a wrestling match at the bottom of the bed.Talk about a rude awakening.
Day 2:
Impelled by the success of operation Roster Crow the bandits setup their base camp in the play room upstairs and began hurtling toys down the stairs at 6:00 AM. New Winter Olympic sport: Matchbox car jump down the banister. The kicker was the minefield at the bottom of the stairs that prevented my bull rush attack and provided ample time for the enemy to retreat. Classic guerrilla warfare.
Day 3:
No rude awakening to speak of but this temporary armistice is tentative at best. We enjoy a mildly pleasant day until dinner time rolls around. Yes, dinner is still a chore. The boys can be well-behaved all day, but when we sit down at the table as a family prepare for a showdown.The boys simultaneously launch into operation Eat No Greens. Not only do they refuse to eat anything that never walked, flew or swam, but they even refuse to share space on the dinner plate with veggies. They even go so far as to push veggies off of their plates and onto the dinner table to avoid commingling. Apparently veggies now have cooties and the meat can't even touch the veggies lest the meat become contaminated. Early bedtimes ensue.
Day 4:
Full frontal assault by the enemy. The ceaseless bickering is enough to drive us insane. Luckily we have been expecting this battle for days and we are prepared. With wooden spoons in hand we relentlessly chase the heathens back up the stairs to their respective rooms where time outs and spankings abound.
Day 5:
The counter attack: Divide and Conquer. As parents we present a unified front, and having already discussed our battle plan (and scarcely being able to withstand the near constant barrage) we immediately launch into action at the first skirmish of the day. Our counter insurgency plan is simple: we will split up the boys and no longer allow them to play together. Amazingly this is worse for them than any other punishment we could imagine. Victory at last. The 5 Day War ends as abruptly as it began.
We thought the boys (not to mention ourselves) would enjoy some time apart since they are constantly at each others throats, but ultimately they longed for the camaraderie. I think they finally realized that they should treat each other a little better if for no other reason than to have someone to commiserate. This is one battle tactic that will remain in our parental repertoire for years to come.
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