Children are human, but that doesn’t mean they’re rational. Natural selection no longer drives their decision-making, so if you assume they have any sense of self-preservation, please know that you do so at your own peril (and theirs).
Instinct: Come on, a child must understand what “Hurry up” means, right?
Reality: Incorrect. To a kid, this phrase means, “Quick! Hide your shoes.”
Instinct: If left to his own devices, a child will stop eating cookies before he breaks into a cold sweat, slaps his brother, curls into a ball, and starts weeping. Continue…
Saturday morning was crisp. The skies were blue and the sun had already dried the dew from the grass where Arlo and I sat to watch Silas’ T-ball game. On our walk from the car to the field, Arlo had collected two small rocks, which, in case you didn’t know, are religious artifacts to three year-old boys. They’re worshipped, clutched and squeezed like a rosary in the hand of a dying Saint. But the toddler is also easily distracted by birds, the position of his shirt, and interesting leaves. Continue…
I received an email this morning from SayYesToPixieStix@PantsOptional.org containing a transcript of my three year old son, Arlo, interviewing The Honest Toddler. As you might imagine, it gets pretty deep. I’ve copied it here, unedited.
—BEGIN TRANSCRIPT—
Arlo: Any idea why my mom can’t make a sandwich while driving?
The Honest Toddler (HT): Maybe she didn’t hear you- ask again (louder). Don’t rule out that she dislikes you intensely and wants to see you suffer.
Arlo: How many books do they read to you at night? Continue…
The beauty of domestic bliss is that it’s so elusive. Our family is usually at its most dysfunctional when all four of us are together. My wife and I try to discuss important “grown-up stuff,” which the kids react to as if it were a level-4 biohazard that can only be neutralized via obnoxious singing and fights over crackers. And it works: we stop talking to each other and start speaking tersely to them about being patient and waiting for us to complete our conversation about getting the gutters cleaned before demanding that we referee a snack dispute. Continue…
Spaghetti is totally great, but umm…is this dinner or arthroscopic surgery? “Here’s some delicious hair that you’re incapable of eating!”
Why is it that I can’t eat as many vitamins as I want? If they’re good for me, but apparently more than two will result in liver failure, why make them taste like candy? Seems a little dangerous, no?
The rules of the game Tag are backwards. If I’m “it” I should be the one being chased. That’s all. It’s not really a joke I guess, but sometimes I just bleed truth up here. Continue…
