My dad has always been great about spending quality time with my brother and me. Very often at bedtime, my dad would lay down in the middle of one of the kids’ beds and we’d each lay on either side of him, staring at the ceiling. My dad would reminisce about growing up on a small farm in Abilene, Kansas. He had so many stories to share with us, and they were always fascinating since my brother and I were raised in the city. I think my dad is the best storyteller there ever was.

Here’s one of his classics, as I remember it:

The Space-Test Rooster

Your grandmother would go to town to the Farmer’s Market on Sunday afternoons. One day when she came back, she had brought back some chicken eggs. That wasn’t so unusual. What was unusual was that the eggs were banty eggs.

Every animal on a farm has its purpose. It may be to lay eggs, produce milk, or work in the field. A banty chicken is much smaller than a normal chicken and is usually raised for show, not to lay eggs. So why your grandmother bought these little eggs, we’ll never know.

One by one, the eggs hatched and every one was a hen, except for one rooster. Since banty roosters are so much smaller than normal roosters, they have to be much more mean and aggressive to keep from getting picked on by the big roosters. This rooster was no exception. He thought he was the biggest, baddest guy in the whole yard.

I was about six years old and my brother was about four. Your grandfather would send us out to the barns and haylofts to get different supplies and help around the farm. Since we were so young and the doors were heavy, we’d only push them open far enough for us to squeeze in and out.

Whenever my brother or I were in the barns alone, the little rooster would stand in the crack in the doorway and block our escape route. Now, even though he was smaller than an ordinary rooster, he was vicious. He had a bad attitude and his beak and claws were dangerous. And to a six year old kid, he looked huge. We’d have to simply run for it and try to get past the rooster without getting too beat up.

My brother and I would tell your grandfather whenever the rooster attacked us, but since the rooster only attacked one of us at a time, grandfather didn’t believe it was as bad as we’d said. Well, one day, the banty made the mistake of cornering both of us together. After we got away from him, we both went to your grandfather and told him what happened.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s take him for a space-test.”

Your grandfather went to the barn and grabbed a five gallon bucket, went out to the yard, grabbed that little rooster, plopped him down into the bucket, and spun the bucket around and around and around and around. Then he dumped the dizzy rooster onto the ground.

He took two steps and fell over. You could watch his eyes and tell that the world was spinning like a top. He just laid there for a while, then, when the world stopped moving, he jumped up and took off running! He made a beeline away from the farmyard and disappeared over the hill. We never saw that poor rooster again.

Although it’s not so much the story that matters as the time spent with us, my dad was able to bring us for moments at a time into the world in which he grew up. I swear, sometimes my dad was magical. He gave us parts of himself that, no matter what happens, are ours to cherish. He sure knew how to make a kid feel special.

As parents we need to make sure we stop frequently to really connect with our kids. It’s not enough to make sure they’re in the right schools, on the right athletic teams, and going to the right church activities. Kids crave interaction and attention from their parents, even if they don’t act like it.

When I was about 12, my mom mastered the art of connecting with her children. Every day when I arrived home from school, she’d have a glass of iced tea and a plate of cookies waiting for me. I’d walk in the door, drop my backpack, and head straight for the kitchen table. My mom would sit down with me and ask me about my day as I refueled for the afternoon.

Looking back, we didn’t spend hours talking. We spent maybe 10-15 minutes chatting over iced tea and cookies. But it was 10-15 minutes every single day that I had my mom’s undivided attention. And during those early middle school years, I learned that I could talk to my mom. That set the stage for the tumultuous high school years. When I was having problems, I knew I could talk to my mom, often over iced tea and cookies.

Parents, I urge you to set up some sort of routine to make sure you spend time with each of your children every day. Make sure they get some undivided attention from you while they’re young. It will help them feel secure. It will make them feel special and loved. And it will help open the lines of communication while they’re young, so talking to you is a habit when they’re older.

Photo by M Shades.