Let's do lunch

Like most parents, I want my kids to realize all of their dreams and have all the things I never did. I want them to have a really good life, one that brings them as much happiness as humanly possible.

I also want them to be better people than I am. From the looks of it so far, that's going to be a cakewalk for them.

The other morning was my turn to drive the kids to school. They go to school seven and a half miles from our house, which for those of you keeping score is a fifteen mile round trip. Don't get me started. Anyway, at the freeway offramp we use to get there, there's always a homeless person sitting there. It's not always the same one. They, along with the standard-issue sad-eyed dog and cardboard sign, usually work the ramp a few days in a row before the shift change.

I call it Homeless Depot.

This particular morning my son had to bring a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts to school. We bought two dozen, because we wanted to have a few for ourselves on the way up (we love donut mornings around here). By the time we reached the red light at the top of the offramp, we had half a dozen extra donuts left.

My daughter said, "Dad, give him the donuts."

It took me a minute to realize who "him" was, but then I handed the donut box out the window to the homeless man who gratefully blessed our day and took them.

The next day before she left for school, my daughter put together a lunch for our homeless friend. A real lunch - sandwich, plenty of snacks, several water bottles. My wife took her to school so I didn't actually get to see her give him the lunch, but I heard all about it. He was visibly touched. My daughter and him exchanged God-bless-you's at the same time.

One of my daughter's many strengths is her kind and caring heart (definitely from her mother's side). It's hard to conceive how so much love can fit in one little girl.

But it does. And it only goes to prove what I've known since she arrived.

That she's as beautiful inside as she is outside.

The Talk

All too quickly there comes a time in every parents life where you have to sit your children down and have "the talk." Which is ironic, because I'm still waiting for my parents to have the talk with me.

Anyway, today my wife and I had "the talk" with my daughter. Like most parents, we were trying to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. But there was a catalyst we just couldn't ignore: this week she's going to see "the film" that her school show girls when they begin the sex education part of the curriculum.

Before they show "the film", the school sends home a permission slip for parents to sign.  I imagine a lot of parents sign it with a huge sense of relief that the school will now be doing a job they're too embarrassed to do.

We didn't see it that way. We thought she should hear it from us first.

As we started to talk to her, my ten-year-old daughter turned red, pulled the blanket over her face and laughed a whole lot while we explained how things work and where babies come from. But a little while into it, she quieted down and really listened. Then she asked questions. Then she understood.

My invaluable contribution was teaching her important phrases, like "put it back in your pants", "zip it" and "I don't care if you're happy to see me."

So right about now the wife and I are feeling pretty proud of the mature way we tackled "the talk." If it hadn't gone so well, I was ready with Plan B.

But I guess now I can put the donuts and hot dogs away.