DS Awareness: “Smart is as Smart Does!”

We’ve all heard or met book smart people who know an awful lot but seem to have no common sense or ability to apply what they know. Then there is street smart, the ability to survive in the concrete jungle but not necessarily thrive in a school setting. And, of course, we all know a smart aleck who uses his smarts in less-than-socially-productive ways. Dictionary.com defines smart as having or showing a quick-witted intelligence. And intelligence is defined as the ability to acquire and apply knowledge and skills. These days, intelligence is often broken down into categories such as academic intelligence, emotional intelligence, social intelligence, etc. And then, society recognizes those STEM brains that seem tuned specifically into science, technology, engineering, math, etc… so smart could be subject-specific as well.

Forrest Gump said, “Stupid is as stupid does.” In a practical sense, I think that sentiment works for smart too…

Smart is as smart does!

Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive… It’s a bird, it’s a plane… It’s…. not Superman… It’s Michael and his awesome brain!

At 8 months old, he escaped a locked baby gate enclosure that encompassed the living room half of our great room. He watched me unhitch multiple clips, walk out, and re-hitch the clips. Then, he belly crawled over to the gate, fiddled with the clips unsuccessfully, discovered the gate’s overlapping panels, pulled them apart, squeezed his head into the space between the panels, and wiggled his way to freedom… I WATCHED him do it, in awe of his skills. He was observational, methodical, analytical… By definition… SMART! AND INTELLIGENT!

Then, Brian–Mike’s identical twin brother who has the I’ll-play-off-of-his-smarts kind of smart–watched Mike maneuver through the triple-clipped, overlapping panels and immediately followed suit. Once free, together they belly crawled to the open shelves of food (our kitchen was under construction) and began tearing through the boxes in search of goodies before I intervened. OF COURSE I rewarded their ingenuity… then quickly shored up the baby gate enclosure.

14 YEARS LATER… 

Yesterday was a busy day. We spent a chilly morning at the “2019 Walk to End Epilepsy” in Eisenhower Park in support of Mike and Brian’s friend, McKayla. And, after a brief interlude at home, we attended their backyard barbeque to celebrate her successful fundraising efforts. As we jumped out of the car at their house, I discovered that Brian was without a jacket. When I asked him, he assured me he didn’t/wouldn’t need one, he wasn’t cold. Unfortunately, within 10 minutes of arriving he said, matter of factly, “Mom, I’m cold!” So, I gave him the told-you-so, next-time-bring-a-coat-like-I-told-you lecture and borrowed a jacket from my friend.

With about an hour at home before our next commitment–a Marching Band fire pit party in a friend’s backyard–I told The Young Men they had to change from shorts to pants as it was getting colder and this was going to be another outdoor gig. Brian was INSISTENT that he was wearing his shorts. So I made the deal very clear: You wear pants, you come to the party! You wear shorts, you stay home with Dad. When he realized negotiation was futile he grabbed the offending pants and grumped away into the bathroom. Mike who was standing nearby, was watching and listening to see how Brian’s shorts-pitch would play out. When Brian finally gave in and walked away to change, Mike agreeably took his pants and said, “OK, Mom, I’ll change into my pants upstairs.” And, away he went, happily! 

I could still hear Brian fighting his fate in the bathroom–“Mom says I have to wear pants. But I can wear shorts if I want to. I’m an adult. I don’t need pants. No, I’m not cold Mom!” and on he went–when Mike walked back downstairs wearing the pants I gave him…

ROLLED UP TO ABOVE HIS KNEES!!! He stopped, put his hands on his hips and with a “gotcha” grin sing-songed, “Mo-omm, I’m wearing my pants!”

My husband nearly fell off his chair laughing. And, when I finally stopped laughing, I said, “You’re right. You’re wearing pants and that was my rule… so you’re good to go.” Brian, hearing the commotion, came out of the bathroom with his pants worn in the traditional fashion down to his ankles, took one look at Mike and with his mouth agape, he lamented, “What? Mom, NO! Mike CAN’T wear his pants like that!”

So SMART!