I have a kid who is hell on wheels. I let him watch "The Love Guru" one time and it made a distinct and lasting impression on him. He's having a bit of a go of things at the school he's attending. He just doesn't want to buckle down and follow the protocols.
They've instituted a Popsicle stick system wherein everyone gets ten sticks in the morning. Sticks are taken away for various reasons. Yesterday he had NO sticks left. Plus, he called Ronald an asshole. Let me "ass"ure you we do not use this language in our house.
Today it was two sticks. He said, "Two is better than none." I had to agree.
He wrote on his face with marker today, both bulldog cheeks and cannot use them for two weeks. He looked me in the eye and smiling said, "I can still use crayons and pencils to make art!" I had to agree. I sense a note of optimism in his misbehavior.
I know this trait could serve him exceedingly well as an adult. But now... not so much.
Last night we went to hospital to see a brand new baby. When I held him, looking down at his perfect sweetness I thought, how could I have fucked things up so royally in such a short amount of time? I cried a few tears.
When SF held this new life, I was so moved by the expression on his face. I'd never seen it before. He'd like a little brother.