Responsibility

The subject of this post occurred to me this summer as I was doing dishes. From the sink, I could see my wife helping my older child practice piano. He was not in the mood to practice and was making life difficult. My wife's voice was slowly, but steadily, losing patience. After her fifteenth request that my son 'focus and just play already,' progress seemed near. "Alright, alright," my son said, "I'll do it." A contented silence followed. My wife knew that her goal would soon be achieved. My son would practice. I was delighted, too. It's nice to see one's child do as he's told. My son put his fingers on the keys. He took a deep breath. He started to place the slightest pressure on the piano keys.... He stopped. He looked at my wife with a grin. "I have a new name for my penis," he said, laughing. This is an example of one not living up to his responsibilities.
At the end of school last year, I was approached by a friend who, in the space one sentence (of a mere eight words) thrust me into the uncomfortable position of having to face responsibilities. "Do you want to be in the PA?" She said. PA, I thought, she wants me to be a physician's assistant? I went to school for social work, not being a PA. Plus, I am a stay-at-home father, I can't be burdened with the responsibilities of a PA. I was, obviously, wrong. By PA, my friend was referring to the Parents Association at our school, a position most definitely appropriate for a stay-at-home dad. My initial reaction to her request came without thought. "I don't know," I said, "how much work is involved?" I decided to lob a few doubt grenades to make her rethink the decision to ask me to join. "Will the work involve organization? because I'm terrible at that. Will it require me to devote untold hours? because I fatigue easily. Will it require my interacting with stuffy people? because they probably won't appreciate my free spirit. Will the duties entail my being concise? because I am terribly long-winded. Penmanship? I'm messy." There, I thought, that should buy me some time, at least. I need time to wiggle out of this job. My friend looked at me. She knows me and was not fooled by my assurances that I was actually bad at everything. She tried a different tact. I was clearly too slippery to nail down in a one-on-one conversation. She called over three or four other women. They approached, and my heart sank. I was being confronted by an intimidating cabal of PA mothers. "Come on," they said to me, "it will be fun." My head whirled around. I desperately looked for some means of escape. I contemplated pulling the fire-alarm, but decided that such an action would be a bad example for my boys. I looked at the group of smiling bullies. I had been out-maneuvered. It was clear. "OK," I said, "when do I start?."
At that early point in the PA process, one could not describe me as a person living up to his responsibilities. After all, I had done nothing, been given no tasks, and tried really hard to wiggle out of the who mess. But that changed. Over the summer, I decided that the PA sounded like a good use of my time. After all, what could be more important than working for one's children's school. It was with high spirits, therefore, that I approached my friend at the start of school this year. "When do I start," I said with a smile. She didn't tell me at that time, but I found out yesterday. I am going to be the PA's secretary, in charge of taking notes for the meetings among other duties, I am sure. I am cautiously hopeful. I wasn't joking when I told my friend that I wasn't the most organized person. Being a secratary would, I assume, entail some degree of organization. We'll see how it goes.
I think that I see the whole concept of responsibility through the lens of a younger brother. Do your best and if (when) you don't do the job properly, someone else will step in to make things right. Violin practice is an excellent example of this concept of responsibility with a cushion. My younger son, as a mere kindergartener, is not expected to practice for as much time as a first-grader (or in his brother's case, a third-grader). {This is actually true, as I saw the listing for suggested practice time in my younger boy's violin teacher's room). As suggested by the aforementioned list, my younger boy's violin practices are quite short. This tends to make life easier for both him and me. My older boy, on the other hand, has always (in my memory) had extensive practice sessions (perhaps because he started in first grade or perhaps because he is an older child taking lessons monitored by an older child). Sucks to be the oldest. Responsibilities always fall heaviest on them (I feel obliged to send a shout-out to my father-in-law, mother, sister, wife and oldest boy- all, sadly for them, oldest siblings).
So, how will I do in the PA? Will I overcome my birth order-issues vis-a-vis responsibility? It will be fun to see and I will be sure to let everyone know.