Don't Take That Attitude to Your Grave

I don’t want to turn this forum into one of the many “Daddy” blogs that are out there, but since I spend over half of my free time servicing this kid, I do need to bring her into the mix every now and then.

Tuesday night, we’re in a nice deep sleep and we hear “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”, per the parental handbook I ignore it and hope that she goes back to sleep. A few minutes pass and then there it is again “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”. I go into her room and she is staring through her crib slats at the dresser where her shoes are sitting. “Daddy shoo-oo-oo-es!”. Really? It’s 2:30 in the morning and you woke me up because you wanted to wear your shoes? Then, I start projecting motivations on to her. Well, maybe she wants to be prepared in case there’s a fire, or maybe she plans on running a half marathon while we sleep. Here you go honey, just remember to shut the garage door when you leave.

Like most of my parenting decisions it ends up that I let her do what she wants and wait to see how it turns out. I realize that this is not the best strategy, but being a micro-managing parent really isn’t my style. Hey, if she wants to eat grilled cheese for dinner every night for a month, so be it, at least she’s eating something. There’s a reason the same four items are on every kids menu, it’s all they will fucking eat. Although, some places try to be clever and throw in some random uppity dish for the snobby parents. “Honey, you can have chicken nuggets, spaghetti, a hot dog, mac-n-cheese or a plate if unagi.” Really? My kid won’t eat a green bean, I’m pretty sure she’s not going to knock down a plate of eel rolls.

Then, last night we’re in her playroom and Amy tells her she can’t stand on the couch and in the blink of an eye she turns around with her chest out, head cocked to the side and she goes “WHY?”. There it was. Three little letters hanging in the air for an eternity. Her first “Why”. It wasn’t so much what she said, but how she said it. It had that white trash “You don’t know me!” attitude to it. She may as well have told my wife to go fuck herself with a Marlboro red dangling from her lips. The sarcastic asshole side of me that always questions authority was proud of her, but the parent side of me knew that we were on a slippery slope.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a grilled cheese to make and a toddler who is in training for next year’s Boston marathon.