This Gawker posting got me thinking about Take Your Child to Work Day (TYCTWD) and my fond memories of it.

“School districts annually admonish TYCTWD as disruptive to education. They’re missing the point: This holiday sucks because the only thing more boring than their schools is your job.

…Most children who get taken to work end up sitting in a swivel chair, wheeling vacantly around the room while Mom manipulates a spreadsheet. Or listlessly shuffling manila folders while Dad’s secretary tries frantically to think of entertaining tasks. Kids don’t want to do this.”

I couldn’t disagree more. This Gawker editor obviously can’t override the typical “Snark Mode” and remember back to when TYCTWD was something we looked forward to as kids, no matter where our dad worked. He didn’t have to be a NASA scientist or Ron Jeremy to make any workplace seem far more interesting than another day of school.

My friend Brad’s father was a research scientist/doctor who studied hearing loss. We actually got to watch his dad put a hamster in a mini-guillotine and chop its head off so the inner ear could be removed for study. How cool is that? Way cooler than multiplication tables.

And at my dad’s law office? It was nowhere near as exciting as watching acts of hamstercide. But we did get to pretend we were lawyers, suing everyone in sight (it was, after all, the ’80s). We’d draft legal briefs on the typewriters, annoy the hell out of the secretaries, and bill a crapload of hours. And those three-martini (Dr. Pepper) lunches? They were the stuff of legend. [Pictured at right are me and my lifelong friend Jeff at my dad's office...Jeff has two kids of his own now.]

What do you remember about Take Your Child To Work Day? Share your stories in the comments section.

Matt Winkler tells Band of Fathers what inspired him to take his kid on a skateboarding tour of all 50 states.

Imagine this scenario: despite genuine effort, your eleven-year-old child’s reading speed is a year below grade level, and it takes hours for him to memorize the ten words for the weekly spelling test. Except for art, P.E., and recess, going to school becomes an exercise in humiliation. Your kid’s attitude toward school is spiraling through dread, bound for rejection. What do you do?

My wife and I faced this situation last May with our son Logan. He’s a bright kid, but has a mild LD when processing text (the “ripple out” effect is incredible). We felt we needed to come up with a plan to get him back on track. Our unorthodox solution leverages his passion for skateboarding and his naturally hands-on learning style, combined with the longest field trip in the history of sixth grade: 50skatekid.

Since Logan and I left home in Wilmot Flat, NH, last September, he has skated in 43 states. We’ve stayed with altruistic strangers all across the country (thanks to couchsurfing.org). We’ve walked the battlefield at Gettysburg, the White Sands of New Mexico, and the deserts of Nevada. We’ve visited many museums, met pro skater Mike Vallely, and made a deck with skateboard manufacturing godfather, Paul Schmitt.

When we started this journey, I had second thoughts. And at the end of each week, I’d ask myself: Would he be better off in school? For all 29 weeks so far, the answer has been clear: No. Way.

A typical weekday morning finds us in the local public library, knocking out the next chapter in textbooks borrowed from Logan’s school, or completing a module of his online English course. Afternoons belong to museums, skate parks, and the interstate. We’ve only spent six nights in a hotel so far, so evenings involve meeting new people, swapping stories and ideas, and imposing on the hospitality of our countrymen.

This recipe–for Logan, at least–has resulted in a huge jump in his confidence. Liberation from a classroom audience deflated his anxiety about reading. (He now reads for pleasure–on his Kindle–thanks, Mom!) Our tight student-teacher ratio means he masters content quickly and completely, resulting in feelings of academic success. Harder to quantify, but more valuable, is the life experience he’s gained, including the lesson: “If you can’t win the game, change the rules.”

We have seven weeks and seven states left until the finish line on Mother’s Day in Washington DC, but the journey is already a success. Logan believes in himself again. He has taken the measure of his abilities and found them equal to this epic adventure. Travel along with us at 50skatekid.com

What do you think of this amazing and inspiring journey? Have you as a father had to take drastic action to positively affect the academic or social life of your child?

If you’re a dad and have been dragged to see Strawberry Shortcake: A Berryfest Princess Movie, we want to hear from you.

Seriously, how did you have the strength to make it through? As a soon-to-be father, I believe I’ll have the courage to watch my child be birthed, but I don’t think I’ll have the stomach to watch the kinds of movies they’ll beg to see years from now.

Below, I’ve posted not the trailer, but a portion of the actual movie. I challenge you to watch the entire clip without audibly groaning in pain (unfortunately, you first have to sit through a :30 Google-served ad, the bastards):

So dads, step forward and tell your story of sitting through the entire 90-minute movie. Were you drunk? How did you get through it? These are things the Band of Fathers needs to know!
NOTE: Any fathers who want to write reviews of children’s movies, we’d love to post them.