The new book launched last week: The Alligator Wrestler’s 52-Week Devotional Guide. Just it time for Christmas shopping! Details are below!
The following episode is excerpted from The 52-Week Devotional Guide. The story relates to an incident around 2003 or so.
We had an active core of 8 or 10 youth in our small church. On Sunday mornings, the worship service was at 9:00 am, followed by Sunday School at 10:15. Done by 11:00, many of us adopted the habit of frequenting the Dairy Queen, 6 miles away, for lunch. It was important to get there before the Methodists let out at noon.
DQ is always a draw for the high schoolers, and if they go to the same place where the parents show up, Mom or Dad will buy their lunch for them.
Among the kids, most were 16 or older with driver’s licenses and some had access to their own vehicles. Of course, family schedules being what they were, not every teen could join the excursion to Dairy Queen every week, but the pull of hanging out with friends was strong. Just as the parents were in the DQ habit, so were the kids; but the younger generation always got there first, anchoring their own tables and waiting for the money to show up.
Whoever needed a ride could get it from one of the others. There was a lot of carpooling going on.
On a fine autumn Sunday morning, my wife and I, with other grownups, arrived at the DQ to find the usual assortment of our kids there. Our two boys, ages 16 and 14, were present, along with half a dozen of their mates. When the kids saw us, they were all careful to sort themselves out and get in line just ahead of their respective parents.
Cheeseburger, tater tots and butterscotch sundae in hand, I took my place at a booth.
The door to the restaurant burst open.
Two moms were there, faces cloudy and stern.
“Johnny!” called one. (Don‘t worry, I changed the name.) “What are you doing!”
Johnny, in the middle of his malt, had the look of guilt about him. He opened his mouth to answer but was accosted by Mom before he could mount a defense.
“Don’t you remember?” she asked with a note of supreme disappointment. “We’re going to your grandparent’s today! We don’t have time to come to Dairy Queen!” She glared at him. Her companion, who had apparently come along purely for moral support, nodded severely.
“I’m sorry, Mom, I --” began Johnny, only to be cut off mid-sentence.
“Bring that with you!” Mom demanded. “We have to go now!”
Johnny dutifully rose from his place, cleaned up his trash and carried the malt to the door.
“I can’t believe you forgot about this!” she said, disgusted, and herded him out to the idling car where the rest of the family waited.
The rest of us continued our lunch, unfazed by the interruption. It was not that big a crisis, but I knew Johnny’s family had an hour drive ahead of them and I’m pretty sure Grandma would be upset if they were late. The prospect of mother-in-law's ire probably accounted for Mom’s overreaction.
But it was a good story, and one worth sharing around the coffee pot at work the next morning.
I related the event to co-workers, with animation and some reasonable amplification where it seemed appropriate. When I finished, Jack said, “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight.”
Others paused, coffee in hand. They looked at him expectantly, knowing it would be good entertainment. Jack was always good for entertainment.
“I’m not sure I’ve got this,” Jack continued, brow furrowed. “You say all your kids go to church with you, right?”
“Sure,” I replied. “Just about every week.”
“And they sit in church with the big people, and then when church is over, they all stay for Sunday School, right?”
It was becoming an inquisition. I nodded with a little less certainty, unsure where this was going.
“And then,” he pressed, “because they are not done having fun with their church friends, they all go to...” he deliberately drew out the syllables, “to Dairy Queen.”
“Right.” I was becoming sheepish, and a little defensive. “It’s the closest fast-food place.”
“This is the same Dairy Queen where their parents are going. And they know that, right?” He looked at me and I nodded, striving to retain dignity.
“And they all ride with each other, because they are looking out for each other, and they make sure nobody gets left behind.” He glared at me, mockingly accusatory. “Do I have this right so far?”
“It’s a good summary, yeah,” I said, a little quieter than I would have liked.
“And when the parents show up, the kids all order dinner, and then they all sit together, with their parents in the next booth, and that’s the Sunday routine.” He glared at me. “Right?”
“Right,” I intoned. “That’s about it.” I waited for the summary statement I knew was coming.
“So tell me again: This is a problem how? Your kids all go to church, and Sunday School, and the Dairy Queen” -- again he drew out the name theatrically -- “and hang out at the same place as their parents, and suddenly this is a big teenager behavioral issue?” He shook his head in mock disgust. “I think I really missed why this is such a tragedy!”
He was finally done. Others in the small group laughed.
“Well,” I said, and knew it sounded lame, “when you put it like that...” I faltered.
“Yeah, big hairy problem!” he proclaimed. “Most parents I know would kill to have that kind of problem.”
“But you don’t understand,” I tried again. “You see, they were going to their grandparents place for Sunday dinner” --
“Oh yeah!” he said exultantly. “Yeah, that makes it a real crime!” He looked at the others. “Sunday dinner at grandma’s house! What a travesty! Let’s call Child Protective Services!”
The party broke up, chuckling. We found our way to our cubicles. Others shook their heads at the irony.
Theological Contemplations
Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction, and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. Proverbs 1:6.
The family is the basic unit of social structure. When it dwells in harmony, the surrounding neighborhood generally lives in peace.
It is true that sometimes the teenager will cross a behavioral line. The sooner Mom or Dad brings him back, the better.
The wayward child is a stress to his own family and to others. Some kids are compliant, and some are not. There is no biological rhyme or reason for this. Parents must rise to the challenge when it is issued.
When a normally compliant child steps out of line, probably because of the influence of friends, his leash must be tweaked. Not harshly, just enough to bring him back. Johnny’s mom handled it quite well. The kid needed the stern reminder, and he got it. While their ride to grandma’s house was probably a little uncomfortable, there was no harm done.
But he probably thought twice about lunch plans before making the trip to Dairy Queen the next week.
Which was exactly the desired behavior.
And that is as briefly said as I can say it.
The new book has launched!
The Alligator Wrestler’s 52 Week Devotional Guide: A Leukemia Survivor’s Reflections on Life, With Bittersweet Memories, Biblical Insight and a Healthy Dose of Dry Humor.
You can order it at Amazon or at www.alligatorpublishing.com or wherever books are sold. The audio version is available, now that the Audible Gestapo has finished their review for community guideline adherence.
Order early and often! And have a good week!
Curt
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