Monday, 14 December 2009

• The Story of a Pineapple

  Since landing myself in this situation, Ive done things that I never thought I would do before, things I swore I would never do, you know, assuming I got into a situation like this.

  I used to tell Molly that there were monsters under her bed. I told her that they would stay there, as long as she stayed in her bed – just to get a few hours of peace at nap time, and bed time.

  Ive been known to pull the “Santa sees you” card once or twice.

  Neither of which I have considered to be flat out lies. After all, there could have been monsters under her bed, seeing how often we cleaned there.

  And well, Santa DOES see them…so.

  Lately however, I pulled something I never thought I would. Something I never even dreamed of doing. I bribed Dylan, for a whole week straight. With a pineapple.

  I figured if it works, then why mess with a good thing?  
  

  For the past few weeks, he has been begging, literally begging to buy a pineapple. No reason. He just…wanted one. Or actually, NEEDED one. I told him that if he behaved himself I would get him one. Then I pulled it out when I needed him to do something else. “Remember the pineapple” was all I had to say, and eventually, we had it down to just having to simply say “Pineapple.”

  Bugging his sister?  Pineapple.  Instant world peace.

  Homework being drug on way to long?  Pineapple.  Homework done.

  Wont clean his room? Pineapple. Ok. So the pineapple lost its charm here, but other than that, it worked. For just about everything…and believe me, we I worked this pineapple thing. 

  So this afternoon, after school, I took him in to receive his “Prize.”

  Amazingly, they were on sale. Now, I don’t know much about pineapples. Infact, I don’t know the first thing about a pineapple. Don’t know how to pick one, don’t know how to cut one, but damned if we didn’t leave the store without that pineapple. We stood in a long line, him, I and that pineapple. Paid, and left.

  Once we got out to the car, he listed off about twenty things he wanted to do with it, all of which were quickly followed up with questions. “If I plant this in the ground, will we get a pineapple tree?” “Do you think sponge bob lives in here?” “What are these pokey things on here for?” and so forth.

  We answered a few of those questions tonight, however, when we managed to cut it open.

  And when I told him that “This one must not have been sponge bobs house, better luck next time, buddy.” his eyes lit up.

  “Can I  earn another one for next week?”

  I dont know, but I think we might be  onto something here.

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