Slipping on flop sweat

You may have heard that the NBA plans to fine players found guilty of "flopping". For those not in the know, this is what they call it when another player goes near you and you theatrically fling yourself to the floor to make it look like the other player just steamrolled your innocent self. The parents in the audience can see where I'm going with this-- stick with me.

The maneuver, when done strategically by an expert, is surprisingly effective at creating foul calls in his team's favor, but there are plenty of players for whom repeated failure at getting those calls is taken as a sign they need to try so often that the referees will be guilted into giving them calls at least some of the time. So this potential rule change is certainly a welcome one for fans as well as star players who find this to be many opponents' only defensive strategy.

This method is definitely not limited to the basketball court, though, so I believe the punishment shouldn't be, either. I reserve the right to fine small children at the playground for exaggerated victimhood, and lest their parents think I am merely trying to line my pockets (with pennies) at the expense of the local ice cream truck drivers' union, I am more than willing to allow those parents to fine my children for the same offense as needed.

I think the highest volume of revenue, however, would come from a very closed loop between D- and us, as he paid out huge fines while going through the learning process and we found reasons to pay him for things so he'd have enough money to pay us back. That's not to say that M- isn't coming into her own under D-'s unwitting tutelage, but her reactions, though frequently exaggerated, are usually pretty well-grounded in genuine assaults. I throw her a bone here and there while trying to discourage the drama.

D-, on the other hand, has been known to fall backwards with a look of betrayal and a declaration of "Owwww!" when someone does so much as give him a stern look. His reactions are so over the top and accusatory, that especially as a parent, being quite vulnerable to such impressions on the wrong eyes and later fantastical retellings to the wrong ears, it makes you want to give him something to "Ow!" about as long as you're already on the hook for the crime. Especially when he accompanies this with a "Don't push me!" Rarely do I feel more like a 1950s parent.

I can only imagine M-'s confusion and disgust when she's on the receiving end of these performances, but I can already tell that she's begun to study the technique, and knowing her, she'll come back as a virtuoso in just a year or two. Right now, she's limiting her experimentation, when she's in the mood to do so, to a still-cute "Ow?" when you touch her arm or tickle her or disturb the air molecules around her.

Maybe I should branch out across sports and start using a yellow car/red card system for these pre-literate kids, and I can build a penalty box to contain them when necessary. Since that sounds like a lot of work, though, I think for the time being whenever I'm appealed to for a "fair call" on a nonexistent offense, I'll just blow J-'s classroom whistle, make a T with my hands, and then throw the kid out of the game if I get an argument.