Do as I say, not as I do

“Ah ha! You don’t have your blinker on!” This accusation was hurled at me from the lips of my son. After looking both ways, I pulled my vehicle directly through the intersection without turning.

“I didn’t need a blinker seeing as how I was going forward,” I stated very matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Then I guess you weren’t being a hypocrite like I thought,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Well, you always get onto other drivers for not using their blinkers and I thought I caught you not using yours.”

I was taken aback for two reasons. The first was because he correctly used the word “hypocrite” in a sentence when I figured his 11-year old brain was too consumed with girls and video games to care much for words longer than five letters.

The second reason was that, while I was growing up, I often thought my own parents acted hypocritically. I never actually told them this for fear of retribution, but now that I know one of my own offspring is conscious of this behavior in me, it certainly stings my pride quite a bit.

“I tell you what, any time you catch me being a hypocrite and correctly call me out on it, I’ll give you five bucks. How about that?”

I thought this was a mighty bold proposal from someone who not only just began her first week at a brand new job, but also has yet to receive her first paycheck or pass the boards that will validate this career so she can continue working.

He was more excited about this than I wanted him to be and I quickly began trying to think of all the things I complain about that I am also guilty of doing.

Probably my worst violation with him is when I lecture about homework and studying. I was a horrible student growing up and I’m not a whole lot better now. If I wanted to, I could review something at the last minute and ace a test which turned me into the worst procrastinator.

My son scored very well on the 5^th grade FCAT and received a level 5 in mathematics which is the best he could have done in that category. He revealed to me the other day that it really wasn’t too difficult; he didn’t try as hard as he should have; and he doesn’t normally put much effort into schoolwork overall.

I cringed. The child is me made over. If he starts drawing horses down the side of his classwork, I’m going to send him to military school for his own good.

Another thing I do is neglect my own health. I freely offer advice to others about getting out and walking or hitting the gym to lose some extra pounds while I’ve had a gym membership for several months and I have not even smelled the inside of the place since February.

In addition to bad exercise habits, my diet leaves a lot to be desired. This is all stuff I know in my mind, but my actions do not reflect my thinking.

These few items are merely the tip of the iceberg of my paradoxical life.

Hopefully, my son doesn’t start seriously playing the detective into my two-faced existence. I honestly don’t believe I can afford it. At least with that admission, I’m not being at all hypocritical. In fact, I think he should pay me five bucks.