Learn by Doing
Posted on January 10, 2006 Posted by John Scalzi 7 Comments
And what did Athena learn today? That merrily sliding down carpeted stairs feet first and on your belly is fun only until the rug burn catches up with you.
For the record, I didn’t let her do this; she was doing it when I came out of my office (ironically, to check up on her because I hadn’t heard her do anything for a few minutes).
“You really want to stop doing that,” I said.
“Why?” she said. “I’m having fun.”
“Wait about five minutes,” I said. And what do you know, I was right. Let’s just say I had a similar incident three decades ago.
The nice thing about this is that there’s a pretty good chance Athena’s a fast learner. Not that she won’t do this again, of course. She’s a kid. She will. It’s just that next time, she’ll wear overalls.
Your carpeted stairs mark you as a terrible, terrible father.
Although, if she went down head first, she’d avoid the belly burns. That’s how I used to do it, anyway.
Shhhhh. Don’t tell.
The only time I’ve ever actually “seen stars” was after bumping my head at the end of a headfirst “carpeted stairs” adventure. I think I was in a sleeping bag. Belly burns are the least of a stair-sledder’s worries.
Man, just wait until she learns about the sled-like properties of a laundry basket on stairs. You’ll get an Athena-and-basket shaped hole in that wall.
Forward thinking skills don’t fully develop in the brain until age 25.
My seven-year-old’s favorite question:
“Dad, how come you’re always right?”
“Because I didn’t listen to my dad when he was always right and I did everything wrong and now I know what’s right.”
Everyday’s an adventure. She’s also impressed with my apparent psychic abilties.
“Leave it alone.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“But you were thinking it.”
“No I wasn’t.” Then she tries to hide that smile.
You know that smile.
Ouch. Every kid does a few ill advised things. At least she learned a lesson without any permanent harm.
I still have a small scar on the top of my head from trying to find out the highest stair that I could jump from when I was 6 or 7. Knocked myself silly by hitting the part where the ceiling suddenly became low. I was so embarassed that I washed the blood out of my hair and never told my parents.
My brother broke his leg (for the first time) going down our stairs in a laundry basket. Unfortunately for him, our stairs took at 90 degree turn right near the bottom. When my mom asked him why he did it, he said “Well, nothing happened the first three times.”