On the heels of the Mount Rushmore of Gross, and in keeping with the quartet theme, you can take one look at your kids and easily make a transition to...
The Four Horsemen of the
Kidpocalypse.
As you know, the media
can take a neutral, nothing sort of thing and blow it out of proportion in a good
way by placing it on a Mount Rushmore. To do the same in a bad way,
they simply add the suffix -pocalypse to it, and soon we have words like
"Snowpocalypse or Sharknadopocalypse." Thanks, media, for that.
Really. We're grateful. However, the media never seems to take the deeper dive
and get into the Four Horsemen of the Sharknadopocalypse, and that just
embodies lazy journalism.
New Rule: Anyone with a
child may declare a full-blown kidpocalypse in his or her house. But in so
doing, they must provide evidence of Four actual Horsemen of Said
Kidpocalypse or risk losing all remaining credibility with whoever deals out
credibility these days.
So here are the Four
Horsemen of the Kidpocalypse...yours of course will vary:
 |
| They seem like harmless creatures. http://bearsenglishpage2011-2012.wikispaces.com/Four+Horsemen |
1. Conquest - Any time
we get the oldest on the bus on time with her lunchbox and a minimum of tears
directly resulting from a hair situation, we have conquered. When we sit down
at a restaurant after a 30-45 minute wait where all five of us have openly questioned
whether the buzzer thingie actually works, we have conquered. (Who cares what
happens in the restaurant after that,) Any time we go to the photography studio
for Christmas pictures and don't have to apologize to anybody for "that
scene" or for bloodying the all-white background, we have conquered.
Conquest is usually riding a white horse, hopping with a stick between its
legs.
2. War - Toss a dead
flip phone from 2005 between two of your kids and have them contact their
oldest living female relative. (At least they try to reach a living relative.)
Hand one of your kids the buzzer thingie at the restaurant and explain to him
or her the importance of watching it, while the other two look on, curious and
hurt. Ten minutes later, try to negotiate a time-share between the kids. Five
minutes after that, take the thing back because it hasn't lit up or buzzed in
15 minutes, so it must be one of Grandma's old boring rotary telephones or
sewing needles. Or it's broken. Inform your kids there is only enough chocolate
milk left for one glass. Hide the iPad cord. Place your children's car seats
within arm's length of each other. Inform your oldest that she must go to CCD
while her brothers get to stay in their pajamas and watch cartoons (this is the
original Holy War.) All of these things invite War, which is often depicted
riding a red horse, which is ridiculous. If my child tries to color a horse red
in school, his teacher tells him "no" and has him start over. Red
Horse sounds better suited as a beer name than as a symbol of impending doom.
3. Famine - Cook
anything for your kids that isn't cotton candy or Fruit by the Foot-based.
Famine ensues. Famine arrives on a black horse, the veritable "dark
horse" in the Kidpocalypse, the unheard of force that causes the end of
days...kids principled enough to starve themselves to death in protest over the
absence of cotton candy, as an example. In this case, I would think famine
should arrive on either a pink or blue horse. Like My Little Ponies.
4. Death - Admittedly,
it's a little jarring when your kids start understanding death, then using it
very matter-of-factly in sentences like, "Daddy, did your grandma
die?" and "Nana's kitty is DEAD." And you feel a bit more mortal
when they understand a little more and ask, "Daddy, when are you going to
die? How old will I be when you die?" It's chilling.
Death, then, arrives on
a pale horse, but the ancient texts (Wikipedia) don't indicate what color, just
pale. Not helpful. Perhaps a whiter shade of pale? From beyond the pale?
Whatever.
As always, yours may
vary. Many interpretations of the Kidpocalypse include pestilence, for example,
which kids often bring home from school or Day Care. Then the family spends the
next four months passing pestilence back and forth. (Make sure you get your
Pestilence shots this fall.)
But enough of this.
Nobody's dying here, just like the world is not ending when there is a lot of
snow. And your world doesn't end when you have kids (don't answer that), so
let's dial back the drama by refraining from attaching -pocalypse to
everything. There is no Kidpocalypse or Snowpocalypse or Sharknadopocalypse.
But when there's only
one cookie left in the bag? It's sheer Kidmageddon.
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