Guest Blog: Pillow Fights and Toxic Derivatives

Today's guest blog is from friend and writer Les Evey, who frequently stops by and plays with the kids.

Because this is Daddy's Tiny Cars, I felt obligated to provide a diecast picture, so the above cellphone-shot picture is of two of my surviving Matchbox cars from my childhood -- these are old, with the "MADE IN ENGLAND BY LESNEY" stamps on the bottom. 

You see, Les and I have known each other a long time.

Additionally, Les and I often have differing political views (hence the opposing colors of red and green). I'll let you guess whether I'm the green car or the red truck. 

Pillow Fights and Toxic Derivatives -

One of the better shows on the mortgage crisis was House of Cards on CNBC.  I remember an interviewee explain how people could keep trading derivatives even though they knew they would have to blow up.  He said it was like being at a party and you know you should leave, but you’re still having a good time.  I think he summed up a profound aspect of human behavior that applies to a lot of situations.

I was over at Dale’s the other night and it’s not unusual for him and his wife to leave me with their kids while they finish work, cook dinner, or perform other household activities.  I have no problem with this.  I love playing with his kids and, judging from the way the children jump up and down and joyously scream my name when I step in the door, they like playing with me, too.

Over the course of the next hour, a pillow fight ensued.  A pillow fight has simple enough rules of engagement that three kids, aged 2, 4, and 11, can understand and participate in.  OK, and there was another kid in his late 40’s.

Note that I am probably responsible for teaching Dale’s kids to pillow fight, not that any kid really needs instruction on hitting a sibling with anything.  Dale once recounted a tale to me when Racer-A was two.  Racer-A handed him a pillow and spoke at great length in two-year-old jibber jabber while demonstrating the correct way to swing the pillow.  He was instructing Dale on how to pillow fight.  This, of course, happened soon after a weekend that I had visited.  Racer-A’s actions were understandable based on his observations:

1)      Pillow fighting is fun.

2)      Dad did not pillow fight.

Q.E.D.  Dad did not know how to pillow fight and needed to be taught so he could have fun, too.

Not too long ago, Dale was calmly reading while sitting on the couch when a near two-year-old Baby-G stealthily approached and hit him with a pillow.  This also occurred soon after Baby-G received my lessons in the art, style, and fun of pillow fighting.  By the way, Baby-G has a surprisingly good pillow arm.  You have been warned.

The battle royale pillow fight of this evening had continued well into fifteen minutes when a signal had gone off in my head.  We were on borrowed time.  We had passed the point of safety and the play would get crazier and more careless until the inevitable injury.  Generally, an injury in any playing festivity is the signal that the game is over, like the bell at the end of a boxing round.  Still, I let the borrowed time clock count on in my head.  Tick, tick, tick.  We were all still having a good time.  Tick, tick, tick.  My apprehension was growing as the clock ticked on.  I began searching for a stopping point.  You can’t just stop a pillow fight at any moment.  That’s stupid.  And rude.  Only Mom is allowed to do that.  Tick, tick, tick.  And we were all still having a good time.

Well, I’m proud to announce that a moment came where no one was in the middle of a swing or planning his next shot.  I called “All done!”, the general announcement that the current activity was concluded.  To my amazement, everyone followed my lead, put down their pillows, and commenced to finding another activity.

Yes.  I overcame the natural human tendency to take things too far while having fun.  One or more of the children will experience one less childhood injury.  OK, the pillow fight probably wouldn’t have happened without my presence, but who’s to say they wouldn’t have done something equally reckless.  And that’s not important, anyway.  What is important is the increased probability that, when he least suspects it, Dale will be peacefully reading or watching TV, and be struck with a pillow.

The featured cars are a Ford Pick-UP, Matchbox Series No 6, and a Ford Zodiac MK IV, Matchbox Series No 53. The Zodiac once had an articulated hood and a spare tire that fit under the hood, but both are long gone.

It's not too often you actually lose a spare tire with age. Wouldn't you agree, Les?