There is no manual on how to be a parent. So most of us wing it by using what we learned from our own parents growing up. My parents were very traditional – Mom was the homemaker and caretaker, Dad was the breadwinner and disciplinarian. So basically, Mom was good cop, Dad was bad cop. And I can’t tell you how many times Mom would say “You just wait until your father gets home!”.
The problem was it worked. I was deathly afraid of my father – not that he ever hurt me. In fact, looking back on it now, the threat of punishment was always worse than the punishment. Sure, I was grounded or lost privileges, but to me the biggest punishment was getting yelled at by my dad. He was never mean about it. But whenever I did something bad, he would get right in my face and give me a tongue lashing that left a lasting impression for weeks.
Fast forward to 2010. I am now the parent with my own kids to raise. Having no formal training in parenting, I, of course, fall back to what I know, which is what I learned growing up.
Anyway, on this day in 2010, I was having a problem with my second son, Andrew. He was about 5 years old. My wife was out that night so I was taking care of the kids. Alex, the older son, had easily obeyed when I said it was bath time. Andrew… not so much. I told him several times, each with increasing urgency and frutrations, that he needed to go up for bath but with no result. Finally after about 45 minutes, I got so angry and frustrated that I went into what I call Dad mode. I decided to do what my Dad had done to me all those times that struck the fear of God into me. So I walked up to Andrew, grabbed him by the shoulders , got about 3 inches from his face and I yelled at him in a loud voice to do what he was told or else.
Now. Like I said. When I was 5 at my Dad did that, it would scare the shit out of me. I would be so petrified that I would instantly shrink down to an inch tall and immediately do whatever it was I had to. So I expected Andrew to do the same. I expected him to quake in fear at the rumble of my voice and comply instantly.
But that’s not what happened. Instead he did something I did not expect….
He laughed at me.
Yes. He laughed. Here I was trying to scare him into submission, but instead he just laughed. I mean, I knew instantly why he laughed. And he knew it too: He got to me. In the battle of wills, he won. He wasn’t afraid of me at all. Instead he was amused that he was able to coerce me into losing my temper and make me look like a powerless fool.
I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do. This was not a scenario I had ever contemplated. Nothing in the way I was raised ever prepared me for this. So I went and sat down and contemplated this new development. What the heck do I do now? I mean, I couldn’t give up, but I needed to learn a new technique. I needed a new way to deal with this, but what?
The funny thing is after Andrew “won” and I walked away to contemplate the situation, he went up and took a bath. So after all that time and effort to force him to do it, what worked was to not force him at all. What worked was to make him laugh. Hmmm. I think I see a new strategy forming.
Now it was my turn to laugh.
Trapped In An Abandoned Mind 
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