Parenting Mishaps

When the boys were little Fred and I made a point of telling them we would strongly prefer that when they did become teenagers they were careful in exercising how they expressed their 'uniqueness'. We asked if they wouldn't mind doing so in a way sure not to embarrass us immediately, and themselves in hindsight. We were speaking of course about things like wearing pants below your underwear, or coloring your hair purple, or piercing some body part so they looked more like an Aborigine than an American.

The boys easily agreed, and so far have never even hinted at a desire to do anything out of the ordinary. I for one have always been glad that at least at first glance, my children appear to be typical in dress and style. Occassionally when Fred and I go over our parental score cards, he too will mention that he  is happy that clothing and appearance has never been an area of difficulty.  We often hear from other parents of teenagers that for them, dress and appearance is universally, a big issue.

Last evening, when we were saying goodnight to the boys we found out at least part of the reason our campaign has been so very successful.

Peter mentioned a vivid memory from age 6.

We were in Wal-Mart going up and down aisles trying to find some item. Peter old enough to want to explore a bit,  went meandering  off on his own. In the next aisle he encountered a teenage boy, with tattoos and piercings covering a large percentage of his body. Earrings, nose rings,lip ring, you name it- this kid had all of them. His hair was also colored an interesting shade of green. His pants hanging out to expose his boxers.

Peter being so little was utterly stunned by this encounter and stood there staring in awe. When I came around the corner of the aisle,apparently I hissed :

"Come on Pete, lets go!" 

 Peter desperate to figure out what he just saw asked as he moved just out of earshot:

 "Mommy, what is wrong with that boy?" 

He tells me ( and I believe him) that I replied in sharp, annoyed tone of voice as I picked him up and whispered before whisking him off :

"He is trying to find Jesus." 

He tells me the lesson he learned that day was lasting. He decided in one felt swoop that he never, ever, ever, wanted to lose Jesus. And he reasoned- if he did, he would certainly know it just by looking in the mirror!

So much for the Baltimore Catechism.

 We're already planning Sophia's trip to the local tattoo parlor...