September 21: Compulsion, Profit, Poetry

"Spirit," said Scrooge submissively, "conduct me where you will.  I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now.  To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it."

This version of Scrooge is quite humbled.  He's addressing the Ghost of Christmas Present and is obviously a very chastened man.  He has had the opportunity to view the mistakes he made in the past, and now he is ready to learn a few lessons from the next Christmas spirit.  Scrooge is no dummy.  He is trying to save himself from Marley's fate, and he knows the key to his salvation are these yuletide phantoms.

We all have made mistakes in our past, just like Scrooge.  I have made so many mistakes that I could start a separate blog completely devoted to them.  But my screw-ups are not the main issue.  The main issue is what I do in response to my screw-ups.  In response to his past, Scrooge became angry and bitter and mean.  While I can be all of those things, I prefer to learn from the mistakes I've made.  That's how you grow as a person.

Last night, I made a mistake.  I was tired and hungry when I got home.  My eleven-year-old daughter, who is in a state of constant adolescent hormonal imbalance, sat down on the couch to watch TV and do homework.  My daughter started struggling with her math problems.  I suggested she turn off the TV so she could concentrate better.  That was all it took to send my daughter into a fit of angry tears.

Now, you may have read the above paragraph and thought, "Saint Marty, you didn't do anything wrong."  I would agree with you, if the story ended as above.  However, after my daughter launched into her tantrum of weeping, I lost my temper and started saying things like, "You don't need to cry.  If you want the TV on, I don't care.  I was just trying to help you out.  You can sit up until midnight watching TV for all I care."  It escalated from there, until my daughter ended the episode by asking, "Why are you being so mean to me?"

I was a bad father last night.  I should have recognized my daughter's frustration.  I didn't.  I gave into my baser instincts--anger, sarcasm, and dismissal.  That unholy trinity has gotten in so much trouble in the past, I should have known better.  I need to learn from my mistakes, especially when it comes to my daughter.  Last night, she needed love, understanding, and compassion from me.  I think I was just afraid she was going to ask for my help with her math homework.

Saint Marty has learned his lesson.  Math and America's Funniest Home Videos don't mix.

If only it were this simple