So like many parents, we have taught the Muppet that we as parents have “magic kisses.” From the moment she first hurt herself and realized that (a) the pain was local and (b) that she could communicate both the pain and the location of that pain, we have always kissed boo-boos. Hugs are given out in excess in such situations, but kisses gently placed right upon the “owwie” are always the final step in the whole cuddling and empathizing process. As she has gotten older, the idea of “magic kisses” has become more focused.
This is for many reasons of course. Those of you with children have all done the magic kisses thing (that or your children really missed out on one of the best psychological advantages that God gave you as parental figures for dealing with the bumps and bruises of childhood), but for those of you who have not yet known the joy of procreation - not just attempting to procreate mind you, cause that’s more pleasure than joy - I will explain a bit more the point and process of “magic kisses.”
Often when children are starting to stretch their frontiers, they will take two tottering steps away you and then scoot back. But more often than not, those two steps will entail a slow-motion, squatting style fall on their butt. This is usually followed by a semi-shocked look and then, as the realization (and embarrassment) of the fall sets in, the inevitable tears welling up in their eyes and the ubiquitous lip quiver.
At this point, as a parent you have a couple of choices:
- hand them to their mother as they begin to wail
- pretend that you did not see the fall, and get up to go get a frosty beverage before the wailing starts
- grab them before they start to cry, lift them up and spin them around saying “weeeeeeeeeeeee” until they forget what happened and start laughing
But as they get older, the spin and weeeeee approach becomes less likely to work. However, as they get older they obligatory crying lessens as well. But children who can articulate their concerns and hurts, while less likely to wail from little nicks and bruises, are more likely to come tell you about every little bump and near miss that does happen to them. This is cute and adorable - at least the first few hundred times. Then it can become a little overwhelming. In fact, the Muppet is, at times, a complete wuss. (the whole “almost pinched her freaking finger off” story notwithstanding of course. Seriously, how can the girl be that tough when she is bleeding profusely after almost severing a digit and then be such a freaking wussy when she slides off her car seat and scratches her leg on the seatbelt and doesn’t even leave a mark???…but I digress) Anyway, I was regaling you with conceptual situations wherein your child will come to you to tell you that they have a “boo-boo” on their finger or leg or arm or head or where ever. When they can point the hurt out to you and say “it hurts here”, and you look and there is absolutely nothing there, then all you really have left to do is give them a kiss right where they are pointing and tell them it’s okay. (If you have a boy, then you can also shake you head and say to them - “suck it up princess, I’ve had worse than that on my eyeball” - but I do not really suggest you do that unless you are from the South and/or your wife is not around, in which case, have at him - you gotta toughen him up sometime)
But for those of you who are not from the South, or ever left alone with your child (because your wife knows you read the Maru and so will never trust you with a child) then the “magic kiss” will be your best friend.
The basic premise of the magic kiss is this then:
(a) as an adult you have the ability to mislead your child with impunity
(b) little white lies are okay in this realm - deal with it, this isn’t Sunday School
(c) children will believe anything you tell them
(d) children want to believe that their parents are special people with special powers (hell, the Muppet still believes that I can pull my thumb off and I am not that good at even pretending to do it)
(e) children are more willing to take risks and explore when they “know” that mommy and daddy can “fix” anything that hurts in a moment
(f) you need a quick fix in your quiver - trust me on this
(g) any excuse to give you kid a kiss is worthy of taking advantage of
(h) and finally, and I cannot stress this enough, it freaking works
So, here is the process in a nutshell: child wanders off and hurts them self in some minuscule way, child comes back to tell you that they are wounded and implies that they are ready and willing to cry if necessary, you ask the rhetorical question “did you hurt yourself?”, they nod their affirmation and point to where the phantom hurt is, you ask them, “do you want mommy/daddy to give you a magic kiss to make it all better?”, child nods emphatically and you give said kiss. Child then toddles off to injure them self in some new way. Everyone tracking? Go back and read that again slowly if you need to. Go ahead, move your lips if necessary - we don’t judge here.
So that is the in-depth overview of Magic Kisses 101. It is an entry level survey course, but you can get continuing education for taking it.
I say all that to set the stage for what I am about to tell you. We have been using the Magic Kiss technique ever since the Muppet was old enough to get the concept (possibly even before that actually). The Magic Kiss has solved all kind of potential issues with the Muppet. It is especially helpful at bedtime when the Muppet will be suddenly stricken with all kinds of mysterious ailments that hurt and thus require pushing back bedtime as long as possible. When these types of things arise, the Magic Kiss is put into the field of play immediately, and, since belief in the Magic Kiss is foundational in her mind, the issue is solved and the door is closed and she goes to sleep.
This was the situation the other night when the Muppet was being put to bed. Suddenly she had a headache. So Ferf reached into the bag and pulled out the Magic Kiss. She laid one right on the Muppet’s forehead and told her that it would be all better. This calmed the escalating situation and we closed the door to her room. Ferf then went to her office to do some work and I went to the couch to…uhhh…relax in front of the TV. I am sure that I was watching the History Channel or something equitably educational. Anyway, after a bit I heard the Muppet softly calling me. SO, being the amazing father that I am, I waited for the next commercial and then went to check on her.
As I opened her door, the Muppet looked up at me and waved me over to her bed. I stood by the door and asked, “what is the problem Muppet?” She again gave me the finger curl calling me over to her. I walked slowly over to her and knelt down and said, “What is the problem Muppet?” She told me that her head was hurting. I said, “Didn’t you get a Magic Kiss from Mommy?” She nodded slowly at me. Thus, considering everything I have told you beforehand, I said to her very gently, “well then…”
Again I got the finger curl, and I was already right there. But I inclined my head into her personal space and turned my ear to her so she could share with me this HUGE piece of information that she thought could only be imparted to me in a whisper. At which point she says in a barely audible voice almost apologetically, “Daddy, sometimes when Mommy gives me Magic Kisses…it still hurts afterwards.” Then she closed her eyes and turned away like saying it aloud was paramount to admitting that Mommy was losing her magic and life would never be the same again.
At this point I gave her a cuddle and, in the best and most supportive husband type thought process I could muster, I said to her, “How about I get you some medicine and give you a Daddy Magic Kiss?”
Outcome? Tylenol is awesome and Daddy Kisses are still Magic. But we decided that we wouldn’t tell Mommy that she was losing her magic - it was probably just a bad day and the Muppet would give her another chance at the Magic Kiss at the next opportunity. But my Magic is still strong. Go me.