Because I Said So

“Why, Dad?”

It might have been “Why not, Dad?” or any other question designed to make me give in. Both Ian and James do it. Anything is fair to undermine my authority, make me question my judgment and, ultimately, give them what they want. This time, Ian did it.

“No,” I said and gave him my reasons. I ticked them off, one by one, clear and logical, overcoming his every objection. Except for one thing. He still wanted it, and none of my reasoned eloquence convinced him he didn’t.

“Why, Dad?”

I racked my brain and came up with something I’d used when Laura was little.

“Because, if I do, I’ll lose my membership in the Mean Father’s Club.” I’d used this phrase with her for almost 10 years, and its success astonished me.

But, Ian and his brother James are different. Special. The euphemism we use when they play checkers and both sides get red, when other children shy away and when their individuality cannot be contained within an ordinary classroom. My boys are special. Because they are, it didn’t work.

“Dad? Why?”

I saw determination in his face. One day, it will be recognized as character. He whined, begged and nagged, but I’m the Daddy and I couldn’t give in. My patience snapped.

“Because I said so.”

I learned these words from my parents, when to use them, the tonal inflection, the facial expression, but I still hated them. I hoped that Ian’s children, if and when he is so blessed, won’t hear those four words.

Days later, I heard a phrase from Ian and I cocked my head. Loud voices flew from the “animated” discussion in James’ room. I heard it again.

“Because I said so.”

I buried my face in my hands. What have I done?

William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.