Cooked Goose

Dad, can I get this?
No. You already have two of those and you never play with the ones you have.
Can I get this then?
No. What? What are you going to do with that? No.
Can I get some candy?
No.
What about some soda?
No. We’re going to eat lunch here in a minute. No soda. No candy.
Well, what can I get then?

When you’re a Dad, you end up saying “No” a lot. A lot. All the time. No. No. No! After awhile, it feels like that’s all you’re saying. All day long. No. No! They give us good cause. They ask for unreasonable things. Ridiculously expensive things. Things not good for them. For most children, whatever the eyes see …

I remember early on in my fatherhood, my kid asked me for something. “No” came blowing out of me. The response was spontaneous. No thought or deliberation, the “No” that was already there at the tip of my tongue blurted out. A skittish, snap reflex to the unrelenting barrage of random, disjointed requests. But this time I paused and asked, “Why not?” And in this particular instance, there was no good reason for me to say “No.” I can’t remember the incident, just my pause and evaluation. Maybe it was going to inconvenience me a bit. Or maybe it wasn’t entirely sensible. Can’t remember. What I can remember is the conclusion that I drew: I ought to reconsider.

From that day on I told myself, I’m going to try to say “Yes” as much as possible.

 

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