polka dot suitcase

As a parent, it’s hard to resist the urge to fix all your kid’s rough spots. You want to go head to Reebok with the doofus kid who picks on your kid at the playground. You want to take that obliterated RC helicopter and make it fly again. You want to find the beloved Swiss army knife that got dropped in the woods.

There are some things you can fix. As Mister Steel knows, I’m fairly handy with the butter knife. Give me a jammed BB gun, or a broken light saber and I’ll grab a butter knife and finangle it to functional again. Oh, the things I’ve fixed with just a butter knife. But that’s another post for another time.

I was thinking the other day…at what point do you have to hold yourself back? Tough love advocates would say, “Often” or even “Always.” That’s how kids learn — hard knocks. But I guess I’m more of a softie. I hope I can be strong enough to let the guys fight their own battles, but for me, it all keeps coming back to a rubber snake.

When I was eight or nine, my family went to an amusement park. At one of those stands where the duckies all float past, I chose one. According to the number on the bottom, that meant I got a rubber snake from one of the many bins. I wasn’t your typical little girl. I instantly loved that snake. Carried it the rest of the day. When I jumped on the bumper cars, I put my little snake on the seat next to me.

It wasn’t until I was already off the bumper cars, caught up in the excitement with my sister and our friends that I realized I’d left my snake behind.

It was too late — the next batch of kids was already riding, and the line was long to get back on. I was crushed.

When I told my parents, my mom offered to go back on the ride with me. Magical Parenting Moment #1. My mom absolutely loathes any kind of ride. She barely tolerates riding in the regular car. For her, bumper cars rank up there with bungee jumping. When we got to the car I’d been in, of course the snake was long gone. But we were committed to riding at that point, and Mom sucked it up and made these dramatic “OOF!” noises and flapped her arms around when we got hit, just to make me smile.

When we got off the ride, my dad suggested we go back to the booth and try to win another snake. I didn’t have much hope — there were dozens of bins and the flock of floating ducks made my chances of getting the same bin mighty slim. Plus, we were all tired and ready to go home. The booth was all the way on the other side of the park. But we trudged on over.

The ducks all floated past. I chose one, gave it to the guy. I’ll never forget his huge, excited eyes — I must have won something amazing! — and his bushy mustache as he leaned over to me and said, “And you win…a RUBBER SNAKE!” He whipped the snake out and handed it to me grandly. I was. Over. The. Moon. I still get happy thinking about that moment.

It wasn’t until years and years later that I learned about Magical Parenting Moment #2: While we were on the bumper cars, my dad had run all the way over to the booth and told the young guy working there, “Listen. There’s going to be a little girl coming here. No matter what she wins, give her the rubber snake.” The guy asked, “Even if she wins one of the big prizes?” Dad shook his head. “Nope. It’s got to be the rubber snake.”

So…should my parents have drilled home the lesson “keep an eye on your stuff”? Maybe. I’m glad they didn’t. I’d have long forgotten all about losing that snake. Now I’m adult and don’t leave too much stuff behind. Lesson got learned anyway. But I got a bonus lesson out of this experience instead: Create magical moments for your kids. There are times for hard lessons.

But there are also times to make something wonderful happen.