THE BATTERY didn't fit. He didn't care, he was determined. The game had no business working. Didn't matter, he found a way. Every time I think I have all the answers, Ezra somehow proves me wrong.
Remember the spinning pond game with the fish in it? The one with the plastic rods? Ezra recently was gifted one but he couldn't play with it because it needed a C battery. The next day, we went to the store to find one and as I put the package in my cart, Ezra stopped me.
Remember the spinning pond game with the fish in it? The one with the plastic rods? Ezra recently was gifted one but he couldn't play with it because it needed a C battery. The next day, we went to the store to find one and as I put the package in my cart, Ezra stopped me.
"We already have a battery Daddy,” he said.
Thinking my wife had found one, we left the store for home and as soon as we walked in the door he ran to his toy and flipped the switch.
"See Daddy, it works!"
Sure enough it started spinning and I looked in the compartment surprised to see a small triple A battery powering it. I laughed at the sight of this tiny battery, barely touching the connections in order for it to work.
Ezra had grabbed the first thing he saw from our miscellaneous drawer (that one place in the house where you keep random stuff like matches, scissors, instruction manuals, takeout menus, extra keys, you know you have one...) and placed it in the battery compartment. The thing just started moving.
My smile was as big as one of those fish grasping to get caught. I'm amazed how his little brain works sometimes. I wish I could have read his mind as he probably thought something like… “Pops, let me show you how it's done.”
The ingenuity that comes from the innocence of a child sometimes is astounding. Proof that always relying on conventional thinking can stop you dead in your tracks. Once more, an example of a kid with an idea, applying it regardless of what authority says and making it work.
Ezra is smart. His imagination grows faster than the curls on the top of his head. And I respect it. Which is why sometimes I treat him like he's older than 4 years old.
When I started thinking about what to buy him for his fourth birthday, I realized this kid already has everything. Could it be possible that my child is privileged?
It reminded me of a recent conversation I had with some of my closest friends about how much we struggle with the luxuries we afford our children. I mean, growing up, would we have the latest and greatest of everything on the market? Would you have had an Ipad? Or a Wii, or a flat screen TV?
I used to dream about decorating my room with the likes of He-Man or Thundercats. Don't get me wrong, I had plenty of cool stuff as a kid but it was different. We understood the real struggle of our parents to provide. We appreciated what we had (later when we finally understood), even though it wasn't much. Ezra asks questions to this friends at school that remind me how much he has it made. "Where's your Ipad?" "Do you have a pool?"
By no means do I mean privilege in the way that's automatically bestowed upon a certain race in which at times they find themselves feeling guilty about -- that's a whole other story. Nor do I mean it completely in the old money, traditional context of the word associated with the uber-wealthy or the upper-class. Although it's closer to the latter. We aren't broke but we're not buying a mansion anytime soon. We're doing alright for ourselves despite our challenges and Ezra reaps the benefits. He has his own room, something I didn't get until later in life. He has a flat screen TV with a Wii and it's decked out with Ninja Turtle decorations and toys everywhere. I would have killed for a room like that when I was kid. It's just normal to Ezra. He expects every kid to have it. And that's when it's clear this generation is different. I knew it when he, as a 2-year-old, would walk up to any TV or computer monitor and expect it to be touchscreen. And why shouldn't it be? There's that innocence and ingenuity again, this time mixed in with privilege. It's my job to keep him humble.
By no means do I mean privilege in the way that's automatically bestowed upon a certain race in which at times they find themselves feeling guilty about -- that's a whole other story. Nor do I mean it completely in the old money, traditional context of the word associated with the uber-wealthy or the upper-class. Although it's closer to the latter. We aren't broke but we're not buying a mansion anytime soon. We're doing alright for ourselves despite our challenges and Ezra reaps the benefits. He has his own room, something I didn't get until later in life. He has a flat screen TV with a Wii and it's decked out with Ninja Turtle decorations and toys everywhere. I would have killed for a room like that when I was kid. It's just normal to Ezra. He expects every kid to have it. And that's when it's clear this generation is different. I knew it when he, as a 2-year-old, would walk up to any TV or computer monitor and expect it to be touchscreen. And why shouldn't it be? There's that innocence and ingenuity again, this time mixed in with privilege. It's my job to keep him humble.
Back to his gift. I thought about it as I walked down the aisles of the store and then I saw the Sega Genesis console on the shelf. My eyes lit up. I wanted to buy it-- for me! But I knew Ezra would love it too or at least I hope he would. I realized the box clearly was marked 10 years plus. I knew some of the 80 games built-in were a bit inappropriate. But despite that, I needed him to experience it. I wanted him to feel the joy I once did playing “oldschool” video games. Of course, I'm not helping this whole privileged theory of mine, buying him even more stuff to add to his vast collection of stuff. At least it's not the X-box or Playstation 4 so I'm good. Either way, I figured the best way to try to keep him humble is to take him back to the things I experienced as a young kid and perhaps it could show him that everything wasn't always so fancy and advanced.
The other day we hopped on YouTube and I asked him if he wanted to see some real cartoons. I searched for He-Man and it popped up on cue (everything is on YouTube). Somehow, I thought that if he experienced the same cartoons as I did, we'd connect on some other level. I realized the animation in He-Man was campy. The dialogue, terrible. But guess what? Ezra was into it. Kids are kids. They they love to laugh, sing, dance, be silly and most importantly, use their imagination, whether its sparked by a cartoon from the 80s or 2010s.
So I won't hold it against him that he's obsessed with Big Hero 6 and Ninja Turtles. Maybe one day he'll sit down with his son and pull up clips of BayMax or Michelangelo to show his children 'old school' cartoons and reminisce with them. Until then, it's Road Runner and Wiley Coyote for you big boy. Happy Birthday, kid.
