Dad, Interrupted

Jim has been known to gently chide me for a repeat social faux pas that is pretty specific to my relationship with him (I hope), which is cutting off a conversation with him several times to acknowledge something one of the kids is saying or doing. This is a bad habit for two big reasons, of course. The first reason is that it is rude to poor Jim, who after all deserves to have a few moments of conversation with his co-adult during a meal, for example. The second reason is that it means I am not teaching the kids (and in particular Naomi) that interrupting is not polite, and that while they are, for all practical purposes, the center of our universe, they still need to wait their turn to speak.

This isn't easy for me, because some channel in me is automatically super-tuned in to the transmitters in both kids. I am always half listening and half-watching them, no matter what I am doing. But I know he's right, so lately I have been making a real effort, when I remember.

The other night we were eating dinner at another vintage mall near us (Bellevue was one of the early bedroom communities/suburbs in the West, and has its share of small, early malls) that features a kind of international food court on steroids. We like the pad see ew from the Thai place (the kids love this noodley dish, and it is full of broccoli), and the "dragon roll" from the sushi place. We start eating, Jim starts telling me an anecdote about work, and Naomi starts talking about something else. I had that ridiculous self-congratulatory moment where I intentionally focused on what Jim was saying, and didn't turn to listen to the kid. Grownups - 1, Kids - 0! But my chanel is only turned down, not off, and it's still picking up the transmission...wait, wha wha what? What did she just say?

I apologized to Jim, turned up the Naomi channel, and asked her to repeat what she had just said. Sure enough! "Today at school we learned the robot dance!" Talk about getting your preschool tuition money's worth, baby! She got down from the chair to demonstrate for us. Robot Dance in the food court! She has done it a few times since then, sometimes with a robot voice saying (how original), "I - am - a - ro - bot." Hee!

Now I'm picturing her teacher thinking, you know, I'm feeling a little stressed out, a little down. The economy is taking its toll. The news isn't good. But you know what would cheer me up? Watching a dozen four-year-olds ROBOT DANCING! Everybody on your feet!