Tag: metaphor

  • Defense of Love You Forever

    Defense of Love You Forever

    Love You Forever written by Robert Munsch and illustrated by Sheila McGraw.

    Beth made a big mistake and I’m calling her out here. She has criticized Love You Forever. For those unfamiliar with this fabulous children’s book, you can watch a 5-minute video HERE to have it read out loud to you. Or you can just read my quick summary here. I suggest you watch the 5-minute read-aloud video, but prepare for the waterworks.

    Love You Forever takes you through the life of a baby boy, who turns into a toddler, who turns into a teenager, who turns into an adult. Throughout the book the mother occasionally comes into her son’s room at night and rocks him to sleep singing:

    “I’ll love you forever,

    I’ll like you for always,

    As long as I’m living

    my baby you’ll be.”

    I won’t spoil the ending for you, but that is the gist.

    I’m just going to say it: I have a hard time getting through this book when I read it to Ivy or Sage. It’s emotional thinking about them growing up to have their own house and yet, still being my babies.

    Beth, on the other hand, has orchestrated an all-out assault on the precious, nostalgic, loved book. I tried to reach out to Beth for a record of that social media post. Apparently, she burned the evidence.

    Recently Beth shared a mom forum post from a couple people who agreed with me. They said the book made them emotional. This led to Beth and I discussing the book, yet again. You’d be surprised how much this book has been discussed between us. Enough for me to take it to the blog!

    Beth says it’s weird that the mother in the book is breaking into the house of her son as a grown man and rocking him to sleep. I say she needs to understand and appreciate the metaphor in this story. Obviously, the mother isn’t breaking into her grown son’s home. It’s metaphorical. It is a beautiful, powerful, and emotional metaphor.

    I told her she’d rue the day she attacked this book.

    So, Beth and I were discussing it yet again. We were talking about the book over text. There was mudslinging going on. Threats of keys being given to her dad with approval to come into our home and rock Beth to sleep. Claims of emotional vacancy and lack of metaphorical understanding.

    Amidst these joking exchanges, we were also discussing an upcoming trip. I was driving with Ivy that day after work to Las Vegas. Beth was flying to Utah to surprise her sister for a bridal shower. Beth was taking Sage with her. It was going to be the first time Beth was ever away from Ivy for any serious amount of time.

    That’s when, right in the middle of our Love You Forever discussion, Beth said this:

    ”Take good care of her. I know you will but it’s hard to let go. Remember truck stops are not safe places. And don’t forget to keep the back door shut so she doesn’t slip into the pool when people are busy playing games. Listen to her stories and give her hugs when she’s sad. It’s okay to help her be tough but also needs love. Drive extra safely. She’s my life! FaceTime me!”

    Apparently, Beth is lacking in irony awareness along with metaphorical awareness. The irony was not lost on me.

    I replied, “It’s like you’re metaphorically still going into her room every night to rock her to sleep. Are you going to be ok? (You attacked the wrong book).”

    And with that statement, I won. What do you think about Love You Forever? Who’s got it right? Is it creepy or beautiful?

    **Mandatory disclaimer for those who may misinterpret my jest as actual insults. Beth is the smartest, most intelligent, most aware, and understanding person I know. That’s why I married her. This is all in good fun. I don’t actually think she doesn’t understand metaphor. Now sarcasm… that she definitely struggles with.

  • Skull Poking: A Metaphor for Life

    Skull Poking: A Metaphor for Life

    I currently have an open wound on the back of my head from the accident.  I haven’t seen it.  I could look at pictures.  I don’t want to.

    After I had the staples removed, which wasn’t close to as painful as my imagination anticipated, I had to start a daily routine of tending to the wound 3 times a day.

    Here is the routine:

    My wonderful wife (3 times a day!) cleans my wound with a Q-tip. 

    She then applies acetic acid to a little pad and “packs” (I hate that word as much as you) it into the open hole in my head.  A little additional information you didn’t need, you can see a litttttle bit of my skull.

    She then applies a gauze pad.

    She then wraps it with a bandage.

    When it’s time, I unwrap the bandage from around my head and remove the gauze pad which always has some amount of puss and blood on it.

    I put my head under water and soak the packed pad which makes it much easier to pull from my head.

    Once removed (always thoroughly soaked in puss and blood) I soak my open scalp under water.  Sometimes I’ll use baby shampoo to clean it by patting with my palms.

    I dry my hair and let the wound air dry.

    Then Beth starts over at step one.  Rinse and repeat.

    Here’s where the metaphor for life comes in.

    At the beginning of this, almost every step made me cringe.  I’ll tell you, appreciate the flesh on your head a little more today.  Because a Q-tip touching what was never meant to be touched, is unsettling.  Having something packed into your head, uncomfortable.  Putting your exposed skull (albeit a tiny portion) under water to be pelted by drops, weird.

    The first couple days of this were not fun.  It wasn’t that it was super painful, it wasn’t.  It wasn’t that it was even that bad.  It was just…unsettling, uncomfortable, weird

    By the second week it wasn’t that bad at all.

    By the third week I was throwing that head under water and Beth was poking me with Q-tips while I continued to work at my desk.

    Things can be really uncomfortable, scary, and hard at first, but the more you do them, the less uncomfortable they become.  This metaphor applies to everything.  A major one I can think of is public speaking.  Public speaking is unsettling, uncomfortable, downright terrifying (for most.  Don’t want to hear from you if you enjoy public speaking).  But my experience with public speaking is: the more you do it, the easier it becomes.

    This goes for everything.  With time, hard things become easier.

    Even having your skull prodded by a Q-tip, acetic acid, and shower water.

    Who knew?