Marlon got pierced

My six-year-old son got his ear pierced yesterday.  It's the proudest moment of his life to date.

He kept his hood off all the way to school this morning, despite a temperature in the neighbourhood of -25 C with windchill.  His ears were both red by the time we got there, but his mission was accomplished because just about everyone stopped to comment on his new accessory, and the little girl who is not his girlfriend, just a friend, was particularly impressed.  “Look, everybody,” she yelled across the schoolyard,  “Marlon got pierced,” and he stood there soaking it all up.

It reminded me again, as I have often been reminded, of how differently my children and I see the world sometimes.  News of war, economic collapse, and environmental disaster hardly register on their consciousness, but getting a new earring or losing a tooth is an event worth shouting across the playground.

 It reminds me also that I need to be more aware of how I respond to the events of my children's lives, to take seriously the sadness of losing a favourite toy or the joy of winning at chess for the first time.  My experience may be broad enough to know that there will be other favourite toys and that someone will eventually one up his earring with a lip piercing, but I need to remember what these things mean to him now in his much more limited experience, to join with him in his moment rather than just dismiss it.

So, let me yell it out too, to all you people out there on the digital playground.  “Look everybody. Marlon got pierced.”