My wife and I were asked by my son's teacher to come in for a conference. My first parent-teacher conference (as a parent that is) - it will, I expect, be the first of many.
The kindergarten teacher reported that my son disrupted the Columbus Day lesson. Apparently, when the teacher started telling the students about a man named Columbus my son jumped up and yelled:
I know about Columbo! He has a glass eye. He wears a rumpled raincoat. He has an old dog and an old car. And he always says, "Just one more thing."
When the teacher told him to settle down he said, "Wait, just one more thing. He smokes a cigar."
The teacher restored order but when she started telling the class how Columbus set sail my son resumed lecturing:
They set sail on a three hour tour. But the weather got rough and they were stranded on an island. And the skipper was fat, and when he got mad he yelled, "Gilligan!" But when he was nice he'd say, "Come here little Buddy." And the Professor could make anything out of a coconut - even a computer. And one more thing. They had a bamboo car, and..."
My son's teacher suggested that I might consider reducing his TV team and better monitor what he watched.
I grinned sheepishly and explained that he didn't really watch very much TV. He learned about the great TV sleuth when I started calling him Columbo because whenever he told me anything he was always saying, "One more thing Daddy. One more thing."
He knew about
"Gilligan's Island" because sometimes I couldn't think of a bedtime story so I would tell him the plot of an episode. Then, even if I couldn't remember how that episode went, I could make something up and end it with Gilligan ruining their plan to get off the island and skipper chasing him and yelling, "Gilligan!"
The teacher patted my wife gently on the shoulder and gave her a cookie.
Yesterday, I couldn’t think – all day. I had the strangest headache. Neither drugs nor naps helped.
