Author Archives: brkichvj

The elusive Western Pennsylvania Wombat

When I was a kid my father would always tell us that he could fly. And we believed him.

Although we never actually saw him take wing, he’d demonstrate his flying technique to me and my sisters by taking deep breaths and moving his arms up and down in a flapping motion. According to him, he’d start at the top of the driveway and run down the long strip of grass in our front yard before lifting off like a mallard from the water. (Or at least that’s how I always envisioned it.)

Dad also had us convinced that wombats were living in our woods. Every Saturday morning, while my sisters and I zoned out to Looney Tunes on the old wood-paneled Zenith, he would head into my bedroom, look out the window and proclaim in a loud and excited voice, “Hey, kids…LOOK! There’s a wombat in the backyard!”

Our house was surrounded on three sides by woods, and we were used to seeing plenty of wildlife—deer, rabbits, raccoons, groundhogs, Grinnies (aka, chipmunks), and the occasional fox. But never wombats. Heck, I didn’t even know what a wombat was. (This was pre-Google, for all you youngsters out there.) So whenever my dad would say the word “wombat”, we’d snap out of our TV daze and sprint to the bedroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of this mysterious beast.

But alas, just as we’d clamber up onto the bunk bed and pear out the window, Dad would claim that the wombat had slipped back into the shadows of the forest. “Oh, shoot!” he’d say. “You just missed it.”

This went on for years. Literally. And although I had my doubts, I could never find enough evidence to prove that my father was lying to us. He never came out and admitted it either, even when we were old enough to know that humans were incapable of unassisted flight and that wombats were only found “Down Under.” After all those years, I think he actually may have believed it himself.

Now that I’m a father, I too have discovered the fun of lying to your children. It’s truly one of the great joys of parenthood.

For example, I’ve convinced both of my kids that they possess Jedi-like powers and are able roll down their backseat window simply by pointing at it and making a quick “CHOO!” sound. Watching through the rearview mirror, I secretly ready my hand on the window control buttons on my door. Then, as soon they raise their finger towards the glass and make the special sound – PRESTO! – the window magically goes down.

“I DID IT!” exclaims my son, beaming from ear to ear. Meanwhile, my daughter toys with him, using her own magic powers to roll his window back up.

Another one of my favorites is the old pull-something-out-of-the-ear trick. I’ve done this to my daughter dozens of times with coins, rings, pieces of candy, etc. The thing is, now any time we misplace something, she calls upon me to use my special power. “Daddy,” she says, “I can’t find my dolly. Check in my ear.”

Remote controls can be a lot of fun, too. Just by secretly concealing the remote in my pocket, I’ve convinced my daughter that she can change the stations on my shelf radio simply by pointing at it and saying “Hi-ya!” (She came up with the karate sound on her own.) Strangely, it only works when Daddy is in the room. But that doesn’t seem to bother her.

My wife and I actually struggle with certain untruths, like whether or not we should tell our kids the real deal about Santa and the Easter Bunny. For some reason, however, I have no problem whatsoever making them believe that they can move inanimate objects just by waving their hand like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Sometimes I actually lie in order to protect them. Like when I tell them there’s a dragon chained up in the basement, just so they won’t try to descend the stairs. Am I risking frightening them by telling them this? Maybe. But in my experience, “Beware of the dragon!” is much more effective than “Because I said so!”

So I guess as long as they’ll believe me, I’ll keep telling these tall tales to my kids. It’s harmless fun, really. Besides, I know it won’t be long before they smarten up and realize that Daddy is full of you-know-what.

When that happens, I’ll just focus all my energy on embarrassing them. Which I’ve heard is just as satisfying.