The Barter System

There are these two little boys that call me daddy. Well, one of them does. The older one has just started calling me dad. That's OK. No really, it would be creepy if he was calling me daddy when he was 18.
Time to move on...
Anyway, the smaller one that I still like because he calls me daddy asked me if we could paint his room. He was very specific about the "we". I asked him what color he'd want to which he replied "Blue."
Then he thought about it and offered...
"The same color as the bike you ride to work."

See, I have to enjoy this. He'll be calling me dad soon and demanding I paint his room or threatening to paint it black and hang pot leaf posters in it.  He's not stupid either. This dawned on me as I was walking back with two gallons of paint, a roller tray, extra sleeve, drop cloth and pendant light (different story). He was walking beside me munching his way through a bag of Hula Hoops and asking me when I planned to start. No, this one is not stupid.

Fast forward to this weekend and everyone chips in to help. The older one has plans to meet some kids from his new school at the park and this is the most useful help of all. It means he will be out of the house and although he's only eleven, I'm liking the idea of him going off to college more and more.

There is a slight problem with this though. I'm not convinced about his new friend. You see, last weekend, the older one remembered that he smuggled firecrackers back from France and him and his brother loaded up their bikes like they were going away for a week and went to the park. Half an hour after they were supposed to be back it was getting dark so I went up there as grumpily as I could. I really don't mind if they're a little late as long as they are safe. Anyway, there is this kid riding on the smaller ones scooter. My yeti-like children have both seen me and now are pleading with the kid for the scooter back...who continues to ignore them and rides around and around.

Get off the scooter, they are going. He did. That was the end of it.

Or so I thought.

Monday came and I had the day off. Around 4:12:39 or 4:12:40 (I'm not completely sure) I started seeing the kids from the school walking by.
No older one.
Five o'clock.
No older one.
I went up to the park and found him standing there talking to the same kid. I got him and went to pick up the younger one. After 300 yards of neither of us saying anything he said "Sorry daddy". I should hope so. I got no problem with you going to the park as long as you've done your homework first and I know where you are. That was the end of it.

Or so I thought.

Tuesday I get home...no older one. He's never done this before.
I find a note..."Dad, I'm at the park. I've done my homework and I'll be home at 6:30".
What? No. You see, without going into too much detail...I see your homework BEFORE you go to the park. He comes back and I explain this to him. I asked him why his new friend doesn't have any homework and he said "He's in the group at school that needs more help. They only get two pieces of homework a week."

They stream the kids according to ability...They are arranged in groups as follows:

1. Really smart kids (seem to be made up of mostly Chinese and Asian kids and nearly all of them wear glasses)
2. Smarter kids (somehow the older one managed to scrape into this group)
3. National average kids
4. Kids that need extra help (his new friend)
5. Special Needs  

I offered: If you don't do your homework you'll be in the group with those kids. His eyes lit up. Really, that would be great. They are so lucky. They only get TWO bits of homework a week.

Yes, that may be but while he's at the park riding around on the scooter, all the other kids his age are learning more and moving on. Soon, he will be left with only the ability to ride around the park on a scooter. I have no problem with you hanging out with anyone. In fact this is a chance for you to make a real difference in someones life.

Then it dawned on me. I'm making assumptions about a boy I've never really talked to. He might not be lazy. He might actually need extra help. I am going to be more open. This is the end of it.

Or so I thought.

Saturday morning...

Her: He has a friend coming over this morning.

Me: Who?

The smaller one: The kid that wouldn't get off of my scooter that you called a moron.

Her: YOU CALLED HIM A MORON?

Me: Did I?

The smaller one: Yeah, when we were walking home.

Me: I didn't actually call HIM a moron. I said he was a moron. He could not hear me.

Her: He isn't a moron. Some kids need help.
 
Me: I didn't call him a moron!

Smaller one: Yes you did.

Me: Have you done your homework?

Smaller one: Yes, when can we paint the room?

Her: When are you going to paint the room?

Me: I'm going to paint the room.

Smaller one: Those kids are here.

Me: Going to paint the room!

Her to kids: Hi! He's just finishing his homework. He's not going to the park until it's done. Have you done all your homework?

Kids (two of them in unison): Yes! We are in the help group. We only get two pieces a week!

She closes the door and the kids are outside. They seem to understand that he will not be coming out right away. They just stand there. On the street. Next to our wall for half an hour. By the end of which they are joined by another kid that looks as though he is not bothered by homework either.

Me: Why are those kids just standing there?
Her: It's sweet. They are his friends.
Me: They want something. Money...more firecrackers. Kids are vultures.
Her: You are horrible. Don't judge everyone by your standards. Go paint the room.

Older one finishes and all four of them sloth off to the park.

She's right. I'm such a cynic. The smaller one sees the color of the paint and decides that its infinitely more exciting to play Lego and disappears.

The older one comes back 20 minutes later.

Older one: Erm, I just need to get my commemorative Olympic bottle from the summer house.

My head: The same summer house where the fireworks from the last bonfire night are....

I feel insulted. This is the lamest excuse I've ever heard. Then it dawned on me...

My kid is the moron!

I can see him from the room I'm painting in the summer house, filling his football boot bag with fireworks. 

Me from upstairs: He's getting fireworks.

Older one comes in

Her: What's in the bag?
Older one in a resigned tone: Fireworks.
At least he fessed.
Her: Get upstairs.

I went into his room. He was on the floor. Kneeling. "Are you embarrassed?"
Him: Why?
Me: Because your friends will be waiting for you.
Him: They aren't my friends anymore.
Me: Why? Because they only want what you got?
Him: Yes.

And that was the end of it.

The kids did come back looking for him and were told by Her that he was grounded for trying to steal fireworks. This didn't seem to phase them. It does send a very clear message and one I would not have been able to deliver as clear because I am a chicken. I was very happy to be painting the room at that very moment. With this new grounding and the delayed start to the very short day due to homework it would take a loyal friend or a moron to want to come back.

The room hasn't been completely painted yet. My bike has not been built yet however, I am pretty sure I can still sneak to the park to ride on my fixed gear.

The point I guess for me personally is that in a life that is tangled up in those of others, whatever goes on has to be taken care of in spite of what's going on.

There is a barter system we use.

We get the stuff we have to do and we trade it for the stuff we want to do.

I would gladly trade being right about his friend for being wrong.