Mike Maddock “Daddy, what are drugs?”

My oldest child started first grade this year. I knew this was the beginning of the end of her innocence, but I honestly had no idea the process would begin so quickly. I thought her mother and I would at least make it through Christmas break without experiencing such a loaded question.

I guess I should be happy she asked the question. Thank goodness, her knowledge of the seamy underworld of drugs is still limited. Her only experience with drugs consists of two teaspoons of Motrin Cold and some Augmentin, not the other scary stuff.

I suppose she could have popped a Bob Marley CD in the stereo, told me she had the munchies, and giggled uncontrollably at her sister’s ballet dancing Barbie doll, but she didn’t. She asked a devastating, heart–wrenching, and terrifying question in the most innocent way possible.

When I was driving my daughter to school that day I was prepared to answer a wide variety of questions like, “What are Sloppy Joes and why do we have to eat them?” or “Will the Tooth Fairy still leave me money if I swallow my tooth?” or even “Where do babies come from?”

Like most parents, I have anticipated these types of questions and prepared age–appropriate and somewhat creative answers. Some of my planned responses include: “Sloppy Joes are a time–honored tradition much like fruit cake, so you have to eat them. The Tooth Fairy will still leave you money if you swallow your tooth as long as you leave her a note, but the Plumber Fairy may charge you $120 an hour to remove it.” And of course, “Babies come from heaven.”

I had nothing prepared for questions about drugs. That topic wasn’t supposed to come up until middle school. So like any good unprepared and ill–equipped father, I answered my daughter’s question with a question, “What do you mean what are drugs?”

As it turns out, her initial question was not near as disturbing as her answer to my question. “Well, we had to sign a pledge in school not to do drugs.”

While I was worried about a classmate named Scarface introducing the first grade to bong hits and speedballs, my daughter was worried she signed a pledge that would force her to flush her Flintstones Vitamins down the commode. She was relieved to find out her stash of cherry flavored Barney Rubbles was safe, but I was mortified to find out it wasn’t Scarface I should have been worried about.

My daughter didn’t hear about drugs from a pint–sized pusher, she got her introduction to that world compliments of the board of education. I am sure some well– meaning and good intentioned person from the world of academia thought drug awareness  would be beneficial, but I don’t think the academicians realized their good intentions were planting seeds of inquiry in many otherwise innocent minds.

I am not a blind parent desperately trying to keep his kids in a bubble away from the realities of the world, but is it really necessary to ruin my kid’s innocence or at least put a pretty good dent in it just so our schools will feel like they’re doing something? How many of us get excited to hear a group of six and seven year olds chanting “Just say no!?” Why don’t we have a “The Real World Stinks” class or “The Truth About Santa Claus” assembly? We could teach them about taxes or hemorrhoids. How about the impending end of social security, the rising deficit, or unwanted ear hair? These are the harsh realities of the world, but do our kids really need to know this stuff...especially first graders?!

I knew just about everything I needed to know about the real world before the end of the third grade, and I really have seen no benefit in having such vast knowledge through the course of my life, except for the fact I was the only kid in second grade who knew the punch line to the joke about the lonely one–eyed guy and his foul mouthed parrot.

Schools should stick to the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic, have enforceable rules, and fair discipline. Leave the other stuff to the parents. If Scarface Jr. is roaming the halls, then kick him out. Don’t scare my kid away from her Flintstones, rob her of her innocence, and take invaluable learning time away from her and her classmates.