Parenting is hard, especially when there are two growing boys and both parents are working rotating shifts. Somebody told me once that, “Parenting keeps you young.” An older lady who was sitting next to us chimed in, “No it doesn’t. It makes you tired.” Somehow, though, most of us feel a need to become parents and despite our best efforts things do not always work out in the favor for Parent of the Year awards.
December in Williamsburg is an iffy time of year. Sometimes the air drops to around a temperature that might allow for snow. Fortunately for Williamsburg and its snow removal budget, the temperatures stay warm enough only to cause a cold rain. So was the case one evening when my brother and I waited like angels for my mother to come home from work. We played nicely, cleaned up around the house, and made sure that all of our homework was done.
The truth is a bit messier as we were only in elementary school and had no ability to think beyond the next minute of wrestling, arguing, or the simple fooling around that brothers do. My mother was coming home from a boring day of work, a kitchen bereft of any food, and the idiocy of two sons who had been cooped up for the last two hours because of the cold drizzle outside.
“Let’s go get pizza,” she said as she took account of the prospects for a relaxing evening.
This was great. After being stuck in school and our apartment all day, a trip to Olde Towne Pizza was about the best thing ever. We walked in and the smell of cooking pizza wrapped around us taking every bit of cold from our insides. We went with pepperoni and a pitcher of Dr. Pepper and waited for the deliciousness to be delivered.
Music in December can be an iffy prospect. Olde Towne Pizza had the juke boxes in the booths back then. For a quarter you could punch the buttons and wait for your favorite song to play. Evidently, someone had robbed a Brinks truck that was full of quarters and they were in the restaurant programming the music. Two songs took turns playing. The first was “Magnet and Steel.” The chorus went, “You are my magnet and I’m your steeeeeeeel.” It was cringeworthy. The second was The King, Elvis Presley, singing “Blue Christmas.” Baluooooooe, Baluooooooe, Baluoooooooe…
The music made it seem like it took forever for the pizza to come. All the while the two songs assaulted our nerves in a way a Bisquik pizza never would have. The Olde Towne pie finally arrived and I could not tell you if we even tasted what we ate. Truth is, I think we might have gotten it boxed and made a mad dash through the rain for our car. I don’t think I ever ate there again despite the pizza being good. Take out was okay, but risking the juke box made eating there a no go.
Recently, my dog and I were riding down the highway listening to something on the satellite radio when an old tune came on. I write this sheepishly, but I sang every word of that song. “You are my magnet…”
How do I get my students to learn like that?