Shotgun Daddy

Evolution Simplified

I've never considered myself a religious person, so I've always been completely comfortable with scientific answers for life's big questions. Recently, though, I've discovered that the science is sometimes a difficult sell when you're talking to a small child (or someone with the mental capacity of a small child, like George W. Bush or Sara Palin -- but that's a story for another day).

When Alison's grandfather passed away last summer, I suddenly realized how much easier it would be to explain that he was in heaven and that he would always be watching her, so that's what we went with. (Truth be told, that idea made his passing easier for me, too.)

Last night I hit another stumbling block. Evolution. Pushing Creationism would be so simple. I know that the magic involved in a story like that would be accepted without question and set along side the other stories we've told our children about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the coyote that lives under couch and will bite the toes of children who don't go to bed on time. (Okay, so we've never told the coyote story, but more and more I'm wishing we had. Bedtime would be so much easier...)

I've explained to Alison before that humans evolved from apes, but the idea of incremental change from one generation to the next spaced over millions of years is much too difficult for small minds (think Bush, Palin, eight-year-old girls) to handle. Consequently, Alison adds her own magic to the story. In her version, the transformation from monkey to man takes only one lifetime, which explains her question to me last night: "Daddy, did you used to be a monkey?" Perhaps that explains my hairy back.

Back to School, Back to Sanity

After work today I put on a long-sleeved t-shirt for the first time in months. I'm not sure why, but I love wearing long-sleeved t-shirts, and I probably have about a dozen of them, almost all of them purchased from the the Aloha Stadium Swap Meet in Honolulu. For me these shirts are kind of a sign that the fall is coming, and since there was a bit of a chill in the air this evening -- and by "chill" I mean 65° -- I said goodbye to the summer and embraced the autumn. When Kate saw me wearing the faded, olive green H.I.C. shirt that I've worn about a million times, she stopped dead in her tracks as if she'd never seen it before. With a huge smile she announced, "I like that shirt on you, Daddy!" Last winter must seem like another lifetime to her. How could she possibly remember what I was wearing back then?

But of course the best sign that the fall is coming has to be sending the kids back to school. Don't get me wrong -- our summer was great. But by the last week of August we were all suffering from too much of a good thing, and it's been nice to get back to the rhythm of the school year: everyone up at the same time, home by 3:30, dinner at 5:30, homework, bath time, bedtime stories, and all three kids in bed by eight.

As difficult as it is for me to believe, Alison has moved seamlessly into the third grade. She loves her teacher, just like always, and continues to make us proud. Henry misses his kindergarten teacher, but we're thrilled that he has the same teacher that Alison did in the first grade. We're looking forward to big things from him this year.

Kate, meanwhile, has finally -- FINALLY -- started pre-school. While Alison and Henry were both shy and quiet for most of their pre-school years, Kate is already making friends and chatting up her teachers. Today, for instance, she told one of her teachers that Henry really likes to play pirates. I'm not sure how that came up, but apparently Kate felt it was information her teacher needed to know.

And so it goes. One year washes into the next, and before you know it all three of your children are in school. They tell us that we should pay attention, that years from now we'll look back and wonder where all the time has gone, how our children could possibly have all graduated from high school, gotten married, had children of their own. Perhaps. Or perhaps I'll just be thanking my lucky stars that I can sleep in again on Sunday mornings.