What They Get Out of It

Awhile ago, I wrote about Elan's sudden interest in world news and politics, notably with regard to natural disasters and untimely deaths. It piqued when Southern California was on fire a few months ago, and was more than likely reinforced by my own - equally sudden - shift in addiction from Kevin and Bean on KROQ to everything NPR. We're all growing up, I guess. This means that the kids start their day watching the ABC morning news, and drive home from school with "All Things Considered."

I'm not sure if this makes me a good parent. Probably not a responsible one. After all, there is only so much that the boys can possibly understand and relate to their own experience. But I'm sure you can imagine their excitement when a real-live TIGER jumped out of its pen at the ZOO and KILLED one boy and INJURED SEVERAL OTHERS! Obviously, nothing could have been more fabulous or thrilling.

Ariel, apparently, repeated the story verbadim to his teachers, (along with a little tidbit about his daddy driving too fast on the highway and a police man came and gave him a ticket while we were all in the car!). Naturally, this was told over to my sheepish husband with good humor and yet eyebrows raised.

There was the story on the radio about Striker, a beloved police dog, who died in hot pursuit of
a felon and was to receive an honorable military burial. The criminal jumped off a 200-foot bridge just as Striker sank its teeth into his leg, taking the animal overboard with him.
Just like a german shepard, I imagine, Elan's ears perked up from the backseat. "What's that, Mommy? What are they saying about that dog? What did the police dog do?" I relay the tragic story. "The bad guy survived and will probably go to jail, but the dog didn't survive the fall," I explain.

"STRIKER'S DEAD?" Elan is indignant, like they were old friends.

"Well, yes, it was a 200-foot drop. But he did his job so well and the police are so proud of him, they are giving him a real funeral, like a person. He was the best dog they had."

"I can't believe this," Ariel mutters from his car seat.

"He was the best they had?! What did the bad guy even do?" Elan wants details.

"Um..he probably did something really bad, like steal - like a candy bar or something."

He sighs. "I'm not going to be upset because one day, Hashem [G-d] will bring Striker back again, and if I find him before the police do, I'll just grab him and make him my own pet," Elan decides.
"Yes," agrees Ariel. "When Yerushalayim comes." This is what he calls the Messiah.

So it was obvious that their grasp of real-life tragedy and disaster was limited to the sensational, the glamorous, that which they could simplify to super-hero, good vs. evil terms. And that, in a way, was fine. They didn't need to understand evil on a grander scale, and yet it helps not to grow up in a total bubble of naivete, I figured - knowing to be careful and protect oneself. I'm not a fairy-tale kind of girl, and respect my kids' efforts to understand their surroundings better.

I knew I had to start censoring, however, when I came out of the shower one morning to find Elan glued to the television, perched on my bed, a forkful of syrupy waffle paused in mid-air halfway to his mouth. Upon seeing me, he exclaimed: "You won't believe this! That boy was kidnapped from his parents for FOUR YEARS. He's just coming back to them now after FOUR YEARS."

"Elan, that's terrible," I try and explain. "That's not stuff you should know about."

"But it is why we have to be so careful not to talk to strangers, right Mommy? So they don't kidnap us?"

Now that's just scary. The stuff of nightmares. And I hate scaring them, but better safe than sorry, right?

"That's right."

By now Ariel had wandered into the room and the conversation, full of wisdom and experience and knowledge, on the ready:

"And THAT'S why whenever a stranger tries to give me candy, I won't take it even though it's candy and I love candy because I know that when a stranger gives you candy it's toisonous, and he wants you to take it because he knows you love candy."

"Toisonous? You mean 'poisonous'?"

"No, TOISONOUS. Like the stranger wants to TOISON you. That's what strangers try to do."

Oh. Well sure.