Audrey sits in her Tutor's lap, showing him her drawing, "The King and Queen of the Squirrels." The Queen, with red hair, and with a long bushy tail curled over her crown, and her King, who also has a long bushy tail, are tossing out handfuls of nuts to their hungry squirrel-citizens. In the background is the Castle, and an orchard full of trees, where the worker squirrels harvest the Queen's crop. Today's lesson is: "Own, Rule, Share."
How we got to this happy moment is another story. Not an hour ago, Audrey, age 9.6, was pretending to be Queen of the Squirrels, with a rhinestone tiara on her head, and a long up-standing tail clipped to her waistband, and with her cheeks puffed out with nuts she would not share. Tutor, hoping to teach reciprocity, had pretended to be a starving worker-squirrel, begging for a nut; then, when that did not work, he had asked if he could be King of the Squirrels, while Audrey was the poor commoner starving because her mother was a worker who had no nuts. Audrey had run from the room shrieking, "No! All the nuts are mine!" Tutor had pursued her exclaiming, "Why can't I be King, for once, you little monster?" And she had replied, laughing over her shoulder, "Because your Momma's not rich! My Momma's rich! Everything in mine, mine, mine. I don't have to share. And you can't make me!" As he chased her down the stone stairs, her tail fell off. Tutor tripped on it, and had returned to her room bruised and fuming. "That kid may be fast and tricky, but no nine year old is going to beat me. If she is the last Princess, I ever tutor, I swear I will teach that kid to own, rule, and - by God! - share!" He had done fifty commando one arm push-ups to work off his anger, and had been meditating, with mind like water. So it was a surprise when Audrey had plopped back in his lap with, "Tutor? Want to see what I made? It is a picture. See?"
"Hey, Audrey," Tutor says, "Thank you. But I am not King of the Squirrels. Some day you will find your Prince, and he will be a very lucky man." Tutor tells Audrey she must show Momma the drawing at bedtime; it just might save his job as Moral Mentor. So, as good bedtime stories do, this one ends with a hug all around, or maybe a yawn. But for all you twenty-five or so kids out there who really will inherit a controlling interest in the world, please, be like Audrey. Remember, kids: Own, Rule, and Share. Now, may angels sing you to your rest.
Across the room, in her arm chair, Momma has nodded off as well. All is right with the world.
Comments