I love my kids, I just hate parenting
A good friend of mine just had his first baby.
Yesterday, in honor of the happy occasion, I pumped the brakes on my signature snark and shared a rare cheesy post, about some of the the unexpected pleasures of fatherhood. Then I went home, told my son to stop doing something, and had this exchange:
“Why?”
“Because I said so!”
“That’s not a reason.”
Needless to say, today I’m back to my old self.
Kids have an endless capacity for repetition.
I dare you to count how many times yours say “no” or “why” over the course of an afternoon, or how often they want to watch another episode of “Octonauts” or “Rescue Bots”. Sometimes even the same episode!
Children just don’t seem to get sick of things. Parents, on the other hand…
![[E-card] Bite Club](https://i0.wp.com/dadandburied.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/fight-club.jpg?resize=500%2C233&ssl=1)
The first rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club. The first rule of Bite Club is you never stop talking about Bite Club.
Seriously, if someone bites you, scream bloody murder and alert everyone in your vicinity! Biting is NOT acceptable, even if you’re just a toddler.
Because I don’t care if you’re Batman: getting bit HURTS.
Everyone knows children get special treatment. We whine and complain about how annoying they are, frustrating they are, how stressful they are, and then when they actually do something worthy of punishment? We treat them more leniently than the NFL treats the Patriots.
We’re so blinded by stupid unconditional love that we give our kids more free passes than CVS gives coupons. Never is this glaring inequality more prominent than around the holidays.
Mother’s Day gifts are the perfect example.
Is there anything more enticing to kids than a bouncy house?
Is there anything more nerve-wracking for parents than a bouncy house?
Most of these unregulated party props serve as manic mosh pits full of kids ranging from toddler to teen, and every one of them leaves their brain outside along with their sneakers. The only thing worse than the maelstrom that ensues should you try to prevent your kid from setting foot inside one of those things (forget Deflategate, Inflategate is REAL!) is the heart attack that ensues while you watch them navigate the bouncy box of doom.
Some holes just weren’t meant to be squeezed through, whether you’re wearing shoes or not!
(Allow me to apologize IMMEDIATELY for that imagery.)