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My Son

 In John Cheever's "The Sorrows of Gin," a nanny becomes impatient with John Cheever's drinking. So she goes to the little daughter, Susan, and suggests that family peace might be secured if Susan would occasionally dump John's many gallons of alcohol in the sink.


Susan does this--but John wrongly concludes that the nanny is "having a tipple" (and another and another) while (ostensibly) working. A drunken child-minder! The nanny loses her job.

I think of this when my child mimics his teacher. I'm trying to put ornaments on the tree. "Is that your best effort?" asks my son. "You're not showing YOUR BEST EFFORT."

I consider Josh's teacher--and her recent lesson plans. One day, Josh half-colored a printout image of a bat. Another day, he colored a Pilgrim--but the printout was dated, so it made a reference to "the Indians." (The teacher had made a bold "X" through that last word.)

I imagine the kind of self-loathing that might result from that particular lesson plan. The self-loathing might manifest as a certain form of "scolding" behavior. "Is that your best effort? You're not showing YOUR BEST EFFORT...."

I'd like to suggest to my son that--one day--things might get better. Perhaps, one day, he will be his own employer.

Instead, I continue working on the tree. In my head, I sing along with the carols of Kristin Chenoweth. I keep my mouth shut.
















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