Today I reveal yet another of my many #parentingfails. The sobering truth is that our 9-year-old is showing zero respect for the pinkie swear. To me, breaking a pinkie swear is like someone swearing on a stack of Bibles before telling an outright lie. That’s a solid 9.0 on the pucker factor scale. I fully anticipate lightning striking that person.
After Jack listened to several unsuccessful lectures from our family dentist about how to brush and how long to brush his teeth and which $50 electric toothbrush from Costco would really do the trick, I decided it was time to escalate Jack’s empty toothbrushing promises to the pinkie swear. We did it. And it worked. For two days.
If Jack can’t grasp the solemnity of the pinkie swear, just imagine how laissez-faire he will be over the double-dog and triple-dog dare. This is serious business on the playground. He needs to get this right.
Tonight we pack for #SDCC2014 and I can guaran-damn-tee you Jack will forget to pack his toothbrush as he does for every sleepover (and of course, none of his friends’ parents ever have spare toothbrushes, in The World According to Jack).
Jack’s big plan for Comic-Con this year is to wear a white head-to-toe costume that people can autograph. I’m told it’s a Daft Punk thing, but in my mind’s eye, all I can see is this and I’m totally grossed out:
Every day for the last 2 weeks, Jack has begged Dave to order this silly cosplay suit. Every day, Dave has blown it off in the hopes that Jack would forget, but now it’s to the point that the manufacturer will have to ship it directly to our hotel in San Diego to get it to us in time. This morning, Dave absolutely promised Jack he’d buy it online. I should have had Dave pinkie swear.