In honor of distinguished Stank troll Tamara's bun in the oven, I thought I'd depart from tradition a bit and reflect on what my friends' kids have taught me.
My 1st through 17th instincts were to leave a bunch of blank space after that sentence. But that wouldn't be honest. Here we go:
- Juice boxes are kiddie heroin. Well, no, these days heroin is kiddie heroin. Juice boxes are kiddie methodone. First, I started stocking them for my friends' kids. Then one day when I was out of all other beverage options, I drank one. Now I'm blowing transvestites for juice boxes.
- There's a time and a place for issuing unreasonable demands, and it's when your parents are contextually compromised. In terms of kids, this means shrilly demanding ice cream as an entree...when in a restaurant with your parents' friends. In terms of me, it means asking my boss, Flo, for paid time off...when in front of her new boyfriend. How accommodating she can be!
- Properly finessed, my friends have no rights in front of their four year old. This is how it works. If I press all the right buttons, if I embody exactly how they're trying to teach their kid to behave, right in front of the kid, they are morally compelled to play along. Example: "Katrina? May I ask you a question, please? May I please have half of your cupcake? Please? Thank you! Yum! That was very nice of you. Sharing is caring! May Annalie have the other half, please?"
- Band-Aids cure cancer. The placebo value of a Band-Aid cannot be understated. No abrasion or cut is necessary for it to be the right and only remedy. A kid could have an ear infection and it would still take a Band-Aid to get him to stop crying.
- The ultimate way to punish my friends for having kids is the kids themselves. A well-planned gift delights and annoys exactly the right people. Have another juice-box, Junior! Have some chocolate-covered espresso beans! Want some Silly String? Here's your drum-set! Here's your empty Star Wars action figure carrying case!