So the other day I went to pick up my daughter from school, on a cold, wintery day in our beautiful city of Ottawa. My daughter is in kindergarten, and well, as you can imagine, some days it is very hard to get her ready, and pile on all her winter gear without a fight.

I went in and stood by her cubby, and asked her politely to put on her snow pants, hoping that this time, by some miracle, she would listen to me, and not be defiant. Any how, like a 4 year old Spartan child, my daughter pounced on me, and started doing a tribal dance with her drawings held up high above her head, right in the middle of the hallway. I wondered what it is she’s being taught in this school.

Half way through my daughter’s performance, another classmate of hers came in the hallway ready to go home with her dad. We exchanged some pleasantries, both aware of the task before us, of getting our daughters ready to face the cold outside. This dad however, was able to get through to his daughter, and right after he said, “Put on your snow pants and jacket,” his obedient child started putting on all her gear while I watched in awe. I told my daughter, “Please put on your snow pants we have to go home.” Despite my requests, my beloved daughter was singing, dancing and doing everything she could besides listening to my instructions. I sighed. Defeated, I began putting on her snow pants and winter jacket, and noticed the other dad in the hallway beaming with pride, chest out as he said “Good job kiddo, good job, I am so proud of you for putting your jacket and pants on all by yourself.” He held his daughter’s hand, chest out and chin up, grateful for the knowledge that his training and hard work is paying off.

Ten minutes later, after chasing after my child all around the corridor, I was finally able to get her to put on all her winter gear. At the end of this sweaty and unplanned workout, I kneeled to pick up her backpack from the floor, which is when my child put her arms around my neck and said “I love you” in her sing song voice. I sighed one last sigh, and smiled. I thought one day my defiant daughter will listen to me, and I too will walk down the hallway, with my chest out and chin up. Until then, the training must continue.