The Sunday edition of The Fred Effect is sort of called off for today. Don’t worry everyone is fine. Tessa is fine. Even Sean is slightly less brain-dead since we’ve been forcing him to do math problems after school and to surrender the XBox for occasional use by the rest of the household. He’s actually been bathing and hugging his mom without being told, so perhaps there is something seriously wrong with him.
Anyway, I’m trying not to write too much because I may end up writing a whole column instead of this short notice that the column is not apearing today.
It’s not that we mistreat Sean, but it feels kind of cruel to force him to do things like homework and dishes. Yes, it is decidedly cruel. I admit it. But it’s a kind of cruelty that makes children more affectionate.
I should write a book on that. Like that Chinese mom who says that Chinese cruelty is the best kind. My book could be titled Honky Cruelty: Motivating Your Child through the Blue-Eyed Devil
I’m blaming the good weather for not writing a column today. But I haven’t even spent that much time outside this week. My time has actually gone toward coercing a thirteen-year-old to figure surface areas and volumes of cylinders and prisms. Fucking worksheet problems don’t even specify between rectangular prisms and triangular prisms. So, then Sean and I argue over which it should be. I say, “Screw it; make it triangular.” Those are a little harder. These worksheets aren’t for a grade anyway. They’re just worksheets I found. It’s his fault. He won’t bring his homework home.
He thinks that he if he doesn’t bring his math home, then he has an excuse not to do it. There are no excuses in this house.
Everyone who indentifies at least one irony in this column wins a free subscription to The Fred Effect.
So, yeah. It’s nice weather cutting into my writing time. Going outside to plant potatoes, now.
I love all of you.
Now, stop reading this and go play.