Toddler logic...
...this is how "Planet of the Apes" got started!
I realize that the title of this article may seem like a contradiction in terms. That’s what I’ve always thought in the past, anyway. But I’ve recently been exposed to the whole “toddler logic” phenomenon and I must admit it made my head spin a little.
There are those who would say that making my head spin isn’t much of a challenge. To this accusation I can only say, “Oh, yeah?”, which is just another way of me saying, “yep, I see your point…”. But let me explain and then you be the judge.
Michelle and I have our daughter and grandson staying with us for 2 weeks. We drove down to Indiana to pick them up and bring them up to Milwaukee. Well, Michelle drove, and I navigated, which is impressive when you remember that I’m blind. It was a short stay in Indiana, but we were able to visit with family and friends before returning to Milwaukee.
I feel that at this point I must make a bold admission, or a confession, if you will. It’s very possible that others may have secretly suspected what I am about to confess and prudently decided to say nothing about it. To those few people I apologize and confess: yes, I did play the blind card when it came to performing certain duties in the care of my grandson, most notably the “dootie” duty.
I was able to continue playing the blind card through the diaper years into the pull-up training pants period and well into the potty training year. But alas, my grandson has reached the ripe old age of 6 years and is now self-sufficient, fully potty trained and able to wipe his own butt. As a side note, I am going to print this particular article and keep it for posterity (see what I did there?). I believe it will serve as a blueprint for other grandpas out there who may be trying to evade diaper duty, plus it should embarrass the hell out of my grandson when he’s an adult!
My first test as the sole caregiver and authority figure for my grandson came a few days after we got back to Milwaukee. As mentioned in previous “Life On Smars” stories, Michelle works at our local Renaissance Fair during the summer, something she gets a lot of joy out of doing. This year the start of the fair coincides with our daughter and grandson’s visit. Michelle promised our daughter 1 day at the fair, completely on her own to enjoy as a break from “mommyhood”. Since our grandson has become so much more self-sufficient it was decided that there shouldn’t be a problem if I were to watch him while the 2 of them worked at the Renaissance Fair for the day. In other words, the jig was up, they were on to me, and I could no longer play the blind card when it came to caring for my grandson.
The morning came and Michelle and our daughter got into their Renaissance garb, said goodbye to me and my grandson and bade us both to behave ourselves. We both promised we would and off they went. Everything was going along fine…for the first 3 minutes or so. Then the diabolic interruptions began.
I work from home. After my grandson and I said bye-bye to Michelle and our daughter, I went into my office, sat at my desk and began working. Within 2 minutes my grandson stood in the doorway of my office, crying and sniffling. When I asked him what was the problem, he wailed that “my Mommy didn’t say goodbye to me!”
“Well, yes she did buddy,” I said in my most calm and soothing voice.
“No, she didn’t,” he wailed.
“Buddy, I heard her say it,” I said. “She told you she loved you and she’d be back later tonight, and you said ‘ok’”
“But she didn’t say goodbye after that!”
I was momentarily stumped. My adult sized brain is thinking “She did say goodbye. How many times does she need to say it?” Of course, this adult logic has no strength against toddler logic, because toddler logic quickly switched from not enough goodbyes to not enough charge on the tablet he plays his games on. The crying and sniffles and wailing were at the same level as the misperceived number of goodbyes. This was at least, I thought, something I could remedy by simply plugging in the charger. So, I did, and I went back to work. Peace had been restored.
It turned out to be a temporary truce; 3 minutes later he was back in my office, wailing about his tablet.
“The power is only at 68, it’s not going up!”
“Did you unplug it from the charger?”
“No,” he said, inhaling and exhaling sobbingly.
“Are you playing on it while it’s plugged in?”
“Yes, and the power isn’t going up, it’s going down!”
“You have to leave it alone while it’s charging or the number won’t go up, it’ll just keep going down but slower.”
This idea seemed to give him hope and I convinced him to sit and play with some of his other toys while his tablet charged. This worked for all of 7 minutes, then he had to jump up and check the screen on his tablet.
“What number did it start at buddy?”
“68,” he said.
“And what number is at now after leaving it alone to charge?”
“80.”
“See? Grampa knows what he’s talking about, the number’s going higher.”
He seemed mollified for the moment, which lasted another 5 minutes. Then he had to check the tablet.
“And what’s the number at now?” I asked.
“91,” he said.
“See? It’s still going up, it’s almost fully charged.”
“No, it’s not!” he cried. “It’s getting lower!”
I spent the next 15 minutes explaining to him that the number was going up, which meant the battery was getting charged. I even had him count up from 68 to 91 and he continued to say the tablet wasn’t charging, it was getting lower. I began to doubt myself at one point and went searching for 1 of my old algebra books. Sure, it was from 1982 but how much could math change in 43 years?
I could feel my sanity oozing out of every pore in my body, as well as every hair follicle on my head jumping ship. I started to feel like Charleton Heston when he first set foot on the planet run by apes. Just as I began to see monkeys riding horses within the next few minutes my grandson let it slip that the charger was no longer attached to the tablet and had not been from the time he claimed the numbers were going down.
This was my first introduction to toddler logic and toddler math. All I can say is we both survived, and I managed to salvage a majority of my sanity. He may have won this first round, but he has a surprise waiting for him in his distant future; Senile Old Grampa Logic! And he won’t be able to play the blind card to get out of diaper duty then!