Category: Childhood

I remember the first time that I really saw how much smart phones were changing the world.

My wife and I had gotten iPhones in probably 2009 or so. My wife and I were heading back from a trip to Atlanta and we pulled off the interstate to get something to eat.

We saw an Arby’s, and my wife and I both said, “Let’s get that.” We pulled into the drive-through line. The backseat chorus chimed in. “What do they have!?!?!?!?” My wife whipped out her phone, hit a few keystrokes, and in no time had the Arby’s kids menu pulled up. She rattled off the kids menu choices, and by the time we were at the speaker to order, we had everyone’s selection. This … this changes how we live, my wife and I said. Immediacy. This is the future, and the future is awesome!

That said, I cannot let the technological advances of our day overshadow my parental obligation to harp to my kids about how their life is infinitely easier than our incredibly difficult childhoods.

I, of course, tell my children all the time what it was like in my day.

I use foreign phrases to them such as “card catalog” and “land line” and “1984 was one of the greatest years alive because Red Dawn — the only Red Dawn I recognize — came out.”

But I do have to remember to keep a few of the other ones in the reserve bin for when I need a good “Back in my day…” comment. Among those I have stockpiled:

Back in my day…

• We only had to dial five numbers to make a phone call, which, oh, by the way, was on a rotary phone. My wife is from Atlanta, so she was all fancy and dialed all seven numbers in her day. City folk.
• If you need an immediate answer now, it’s easy enough. Our Google? The set of encyclopedias sitting on the shelf, or our parents. Let’s say we had a paper due the next day on, say, Venezuela. We could grab the World Book (U-V edition), and look up what we wanted. Or we could ask our parents, and possibly then include in our term paper a fun made-up fact our dad thought was funny, such as stating that Venezuela got its name because they were big fans of Fernando Valenzuela, but didn’t want to be too obvious.
• Our TV shows weren’t on demand, and the concept of “binge watching” was nonexistent. My daughter watched the entire run of “Friends” over an especially unproductive weekend. I told her it took her mother and me a full decade to watch “Friends,” and we did it because we liked it that way. Harumph.
• We had to read maps. Made out of paper. And that could rarely be folded back into their original form. My father-in-law is a real estate appraiser, and my wife brags that she learned early on not only how to read maps, but how to fold them back like a champ. Kids today…
• The phrase “Be Kind, Rewind” means something to us. Sure, you get your Redbox DVD or your iTunes download. But we used to have to do some heavy lifting in our day, and that required waiting patiently while your VHS copy of “Weekend at Bernie’s” wound all the way back to start, lest you get fined by your movie overlords at Blockbuster.
• You kids today have your privacy on a phone call, because you have a cell phone and you can go anywhere to make your calls. Back when we had those wall-mounted phones, we had to get our privacy the old fashioned way — with a 20-foot cord that you added to the phone so you could go far away from everyone else to make your call. This was exceptionally challenging if you were one one of my three older sisters and, during that call with your friend, your little brother repeatedly opened and closed the sliding glass door on the cord, hoping he could introduce a little chaos into your life because, well, little brothers are awful. (Source: I am a little brother, and also the parent of a little brother.)

So the world has gotten better than when we were kids. But kids today need to remember that their parents endured some mighty struggles. And I am sure they, too, will one day be able to tell their kids about the hardships they endured, with non-Wifi hotspots and such. I wish them well, and hope they can convey to their kids the struggle they endured. In particular that terrible time when Redbox was out of their movie.

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken, S.C. A graduate of the University of Alabama, he now lives in Charleston. You can e-mail him at scmgibbons@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @StandardMike.

My son was staying with a friend a couple of hours away recently. After his first night there, I received a call from, around 10 in the morning. Just checking in, I figured.

“How’s it going?” I said.

“Well, I’ve been better. Took a spill on my bike. Cut my knee. But I think it’s OK,” he said.

Well, who better to diagnose the severity of a cut than a 13-year-old. On with my day!

A short while later, my wife and I both received the same text, with a picture attached. It was from his friend’s mom. “Does this look like it needs stitches?” Attached was a picture of his knee.

Yep.

My wife was in Atlanta at the same time, so she was about seven hours away. I was two hours away. My wife said, “I’ll go.” Maternal nature is sweet. But that just wasn’t practical.

I hopped in my car and headed that way. His friend’s mom offered to meet me halfway, but I told her I’d just come on that way. For one thing, they have a friend who is a doctor and would be able to stitch him up. Our pediatrician doesn’t do stitches, so we would have to go to a clinic to get it done here. I’m sure that would have been fine, but a doctor they know and trust made me feel a little better.

I arrived at the clinic about the same time they did. My son was doing his best to be brave. When we went to see the doctor, it was not what you typically expect. The dude was huge, and very fit. He was exceptionally tan, with a shaved head and a sharp, short-trimmed white beard. He wore jeans and sandals and a henley shirt. He strode over to Parker exuding cool. He offered him a fist bump and told him he’d fix him up. My wife texted me to ask how it was going. I texted back, “This doctor is cool. I could start a bar fight, and I think he could finish it by himself.”

I don’t think that’s what my wife meant with her question.

Parker hopped up on the table, and the doctor told him he was going to give him a shot, and that it would hurt for about 10 seconds, and then it would be over. He was true to his word. Maybe 10 seconds of “YOWCH!!!!” from Parker, and then nothing. The doctor told him he could watch him stitch it up if he wanted to. With the leg numbed, Parker found the procedure to be fascinating.

Five quick stitches later, the cut was sealed up. The doctor fist bumped Parker and gave us a few quick and easy instructions for keeping it clean for the next 10 days.

Once done with the stitches, we set out to plan the rest of the week. Parker had planned to stay with his friend for a few more days. In the end, we decided the best move would be for him to come back with me and we’d let the boys pick up their adventure once his knee was healed.

The wound is healing nicely, and my normally grubby, nasty son (as pretty much all 13-year-old boys are) has been very diligent about tending to it, putting Neosporin on it and replacing his bandage as needed.

I hate that he got hurt and that his time with his friend got cut short. But I am glad he was in caring hands and that I was able to get there and be with him.

Plus, he’s going to have a dandy little scar, which will go nice with the umpty-six other scars he has on elbows, forehead, etc. As the old saying goes, “Scars are tattoos with better stories.”

But the biggest takeaway from the whole event? If I ever feel the need to start a bar fight, I know who I’m calling.

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken, S.C. A graduate of the University of Alabama, he now lives in Charleston. You can e-mail him at scmgibbons@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @StandardMike.

I appreciate when folks are concerned about other people’s kids. As a parent, I’d like to think I do my part in helping keeping an eye out to make sure other parents’ kids aren’t in danger, especially during that split second every parent has at some point where their incredibly elusive child darts from the reach of safety.

That said, I try really hard not to parent other people’s kids. What I find acceptable or unacceptable in my house is my business, and I certainly don’t feel the need to exert my parenting style on others, in particular strangers.

And most of it is pretty cut and dried, especially with younger kids. See a get darting into traffic? OK to step up and parent and stop the kid. Don’t like the way a kid is talking to his parents? Yeah, not really your business.

But in particular as kids get older, there are those gray areas. And I find myself being on the receiving end of those gray areas a good bit.

My family and I spend a lot of time outdoors. One of our favorite places is a popular marsh spot near our house where we love to go crabbing and fishing. At low tide, there is a vast amount of mud flats that are easily accessible. Generally, anywhere from 25-50 percent of my family is up for venturing out onto the flats.

But it’s usually just my son out there. He’s 13, and certainly knows his away around the outdoors. At this particular spot, we have gotten to know the flats well, too. We know where we can walk and when, and we know how the tides behave in this spot. In short, we know what we’re doing.

There is one particular sandbar that my son likes to go fishing and cast netting on. At dead low tide, he can wade out to the sandbar and set up shop. He also knows, when the tide is coming back in, when it’s time to wade back, lest you have to try and swim the 20 feet or so, dragging all of your gear. He usually does this by marking a spot on the sandbar with a clam or oyster. When the water hits there, time to walk back to the mainland when the water is still just knee-deep. He’s a smart kid.

Whenever he’s out there on the sandbar, I leave and go knock out some errands. He’s fine.

Ha! Some bad parenting humor for you. I’m always right there, mainly because I want to see what he catches, but also because, you know, parenting.

I’ve chuckled at the times I’ve overheard concerned passersby comment on my son. “I think that boy is stuck” or “Why is that kid out there by himself?” are two responses I have heard.

I’m never confrontational. My response in the first comment: “Nah, water’s only a few inches deep to get out there. See that clam on the sandbar? When it hits that mark, he’ll come back in.”

To the second remark, I did the sensible and mature thing, which was to throw a handful of bait at them, leading to a seagull attack that would have made Tippy Hedren proud.

Ha! More bad parenting humor. Rather, I said, “He’s mine,” followed by the explanation that I gave to the prior comment.

After a few minutes of chatting about the marsh and what we find out there, most folks decide that I am not, in fact, an awful parent, and that my son is just out in nature doing what little boys do.

One time, as my son was out on one of the flats, an elderly woman walked up next to me as I leaned on the railing, watching him throw his cast net. “Is he yours?” she asked. Uh-oh, I thought. Lecture time.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

She turned to me and smiled. “He’s living the life, isn’t he?” Yes, ma’am, he is.

I appreciate the concerns of the other parents, but I really appreciate the woman who surveyed the situation and realized that a teenage boy out communing with nature is, in fact, living the life.

That said, if he makes a break into traffic, any of you folks are welcome to grab him.

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken, S.C. A graduate of the University of Alabama, he now lives in Charleston. You can e-mail him at scmgibbons@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @StandardMike.

Sometimes in life, you just have to be a T. Rex.

I was getting takeout dinner the other night at a restaurant near our house. My wife and I were discussing possible dinner choices, and we both agreed that (1) neither of us wanted to cook and (2) neither of us really wanted to go out for dinner. It was an exceptionally motivated kind of night.

So I went to a place near our house to order some chicken and steak kabobs, as there is never a night when chicken and steak kabobs won’t hit the spot. As I was waiting for my order, a woman came in with her two young boys, probably 3 and 6.

The mother looked tired. I know the look. I’ve seen it many times, often when I walk in the door from work. Granted, I don’t see it as much these days, as my kids are teens. If the day has gone south with teens, it’s a veeeery different look you get when you walk in the door.

As the woman approached the counter to order, her older son loudly announced, “I’M A T. REX!!!!” And he then proceeded to tuck his arms up in little shortened T. Rex fashion and stomp after his brother. And in case you were wondering, yes, he added the roars.

As is required by federal law, the younger brother began sprinting away, screaming in terror as the T. Rex continued his pursuit.

The mother got another one of those looks. “MATTHEW!!! ROBERT!!!!” she said, in one of those whisper/yell combinations that only moms can do. (By the way, I’ve changed the name of the T. Rex and his prey to protect their identities. Their real names are David and William.)

The call from the mom had no effect on either child. But that makes sense, because everyone knows, despite a T. Rex’s excellent hearing, when focused on prey, they will not be distracted.

Now, had this been at some fancy restaurant with a bunch of folks in it, I could see where there would be cause for distress on the mother’s part. But this was a take-out kabob place, and the only other people in the restaurant were a dad and his young daughter and a woman slightly older than me, also waiting for takeout. The young daughter found it hilarious, as did the dad. The woman next to me said, with a laugh, “I remember when mine were that age.”

I asked for a manager and demanded that Jurassic Preschool be removed from the premises immediately. And a free soft drink with my order.

Ha! I kid. I, too, was laughing, as it was funny to watch Cli…Matthew chase his brother around the restaurant. I also understand the mom’s concerns. Many folks who are getting annoyed by kids in restaurants don’t realize that the most mortified person in the facility is the actual parent. Sure, there are some awful people who let their children run amok with no concern for others whatsoever. But I’d like to think those are the outliers.

The mom paid for her order and then went off in pursuit of her T. Rex and his prey. As she passed us, she gave that mom apology that I have seen too often and that I find unfortunate parents feel like they have to give. Being a parent of small kids is tough. Especially when they start to act like the wild animals that they are at heart. But at least for this moment, she had a sympathetic audience that wasn’t going to make her feel like a bad parent for her kids being, well, kids.

“No worries,” I said. “Your son is an excellent T. Rex,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said, with that tired look only the mom of a T. Rex knows.

I remember those times, as does my wife. We’re in a different stage of parenting, with different challenges facing us with our kids. But I’ll always be sympathetic to the hard working parents who are just trying to order some food with a couple of small kids. Especially if one is a T. Rex.

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken, S.C. A graduate of the University of Alabama, he now lives in Charleston. You can e-mail him at scmgibbons@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @StandardMike.

There are lots of things people get annoyed at. If you took a poll in my household, you’d find that 75 percent of respondents said, “Uh, yeah, like, everything.”

So, sure. I get annoyed at things. Some of them are plenty justified, even if some of those in the previously mentioned poll don’t get why I hate seeing people chew gum

But some things that the general masses tend to get annoyed at? Well, maybe we as a whole should stop getting peeved by them. And if you think I am going to mention not returning shopping carts to the proper corral, I am not. Because that is still a crime against humanity and always will be.

Some of the things we get annoyed at other people doing, though, really don’t impact us at all. (Gum chewing is not one of those. It’s gross.) So, a few things we as a society can stop getting our collective knickers in a twist about:

• Selfies – Long before digital cameras, my wife and I used to take selfies all the time. And it didn’t bother anybody. The fun of getting our film back to see if the pictures came out with our entire faces in the picture AND the waterfall in back? Good times. Just because cell phones have made the experience instantaneous isn’t a reason to get all huffy. It’s other people having a good time. It doesn’t really affect you.
• Taking pictures of your food – Again, long before the digital age, we loved sharing tales of our great meals we had. I have a friend who I routinely trade meal pics with, as she is a food lover, and loves to talk about good eats. Had we known each other 20 years ago, we would have had great discussions about an awesome meal in person. Now, thanks to technology, that conversation can be immediate, regardless of distance.
• Everyone at the table being on their phone during dinner at a restaurant – Granted, this is a slippery slope. If every family meal is just a group of people on their cell phones talking to other people, that’s a problem. But sometimes, said family is on hour 8 of the last leg of a family road trip, and they’ve stopped at a Cracker Barrel just to get some grub and, quite frankly, they’ve had all the family time they can stomach. Everyone to their cyber corners.
• Parents not disciplining their unruly kids behavior in public – As a parent, one of the worst times in your life is when your child is acting like a deranged alien in public. My kids are teens now, so the worst I’m going to get in public these days is brooding. But with younger kids, especially, when a temper tantrum starts going full force in public, the parent has my complete sympathy. Sure, they may be a horrible parent. But chances are, they are a fine parent, just trying to get out of the grocery with the paper towels and the dog food. While some folks would like to see the full force of parental vengeance come down on the kid for everyone to see, the truth of the matter is, most parents are far more mortified than you are annoyed. Public beatings aren’t really going to cure any ills.
• Taking pictures at historical monuments – I live in one of the most popular tourist destinations in the country. And plenty of local folks take great joy in mocking people for taking pictures of historic houses or at historic sites. Also, I’ve seen numerous internet posts of people rolling their internet eyes at folks at the Leaning Tower of Pisa, taking the old “propping up the Tower” picture. But those tourists? It’s the only time they’re there. That’s their memory. Lighten up.

Now, there are some things you can still get annoyed at. Vague Facebook posts, not thanking someone for letting you in while driving, chewing gum in my house. But so many things you have to ask yourself, are you being annoyed for the sake being annoyed? Maybe you should just let other people live their lives, and care less about what they’re doing and more about what you can be doing in life. Such as putting up your shopping cart.

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken, S.C. A graduate of the University of Alabama, he now lives in Charleston. You can e-mail him at scmgibbons@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @StandardMike.