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Presidents, Peas & Parenthood |
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Humor Menu |
From the moment that
they're born, children are locked into a lifetime battle with their
parents for the upper hand. Even something as simple as dinner can
become a battle of wills. "I don't want any peas," Jeremy said with a half-smirk that belied his determination. "You eat everything in front of you," I barked. "Even the napkins and the salt shaker?" "Don't be a wise guy!," I snapped. "You're not funny." "Then how come mommy's laughing?" "Because she's picturing how funny you're gonna look after I knock your head off! Now eat your peas." "But dad, they make me feel like I'm gonna throw up." "Jeremy, if you throw up, I'll clean it. NOW EAT THOSE PEAS!"  Jeremy, shown here at age two, always turned meals into an adventure .
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| Whereupon he proceeded to
force the peas down and true to his word, immediately threw up. "I told you that they make me sick dad," he said. "I'm gonna go watch cartoons while you clean this up. Call me when dessert is ready." Jeremy could have been the poster child for instant gratification. As our first child, he served as our guinea pig in that ongoing experiment called parenthood. Like losing your car's breaks half way down one of San Francisco's hills, no amount of training can prepare you for the reality of the situation. All you can do is avoid the major obstacles and pray that you don't maim anyone. I've witnessed the birth of two children and find it incredible that any non-Catholic would have a large family. The entire process of creating a life begins and ends with a lot of moaning and screaming. It's the screams at the end of the gestation period that give the truest indication of what is yet to come. Raising children isn't like growing tomatoes. You can't just stick them in the sun and water them once in a while. Being a good parent takes training - physical training. Don't waste your time reading Dr. Spock. Instead break out your dumbbells and jogging shoes. To succeed as a parent you need to be a world class athlete. You need the quickness of a basketball player so that you can catch your child when he's about to fall off the kitchen counter while seeking the elusive cookie. You must have the endurance of a marathoner if you have any hope of surviving 3 days of Junior's flu with a total of 12 minutes sleep. Most important of all, you'll need the strength of a power lifter so that you can emphasize your point by tossing him across the living room. Children will work on you physically from day one, but once they begin school, once their little heads start to fill with knowledge, once they realize that there is even the slimmest chance that daddy may not be the all-knowing, all-powerful wizard of the universe, they begin to work on you mentally too. They want to see just how alert you are. My daughter Nicole came home from kindergarten one day, excited because she was learning about government. She was delving into a subject where daddy naively believed he truly was the all-knowing one. I had to find out how much she had learned. |
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| "What is a mayor
supposed to do?," I quizzed. "Run the city," Nicole answered proudly. "What is a governor supposed to do?" "Run the State." "What is a president supposed to do?" I asked. "Die," she replied. |
 Nicole was always at least one step ahead of Dad. |
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| "Now why would
you say that?" "Because all of the presidents that we're studying are dead." "There are still a few ex-presidents who are alive," I explained, proud of my amazing knowledge. "I know that dad, but they don't count," she said. "Good presidents die." "Excuse me?" "We were talking about the presidents who are still alive and my teacher said that they were all screw-ups." "Because they didn't die when they were supposed to!" "That makes sense," Jeremy chipped in. "And people worry about public schools!" I said to no one in particular. |
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