I’ve had a lot of baby-related interactions lately. A few weeks ago I flew out to California for a mini-college reunion/baby shower for one of my college gals (and former post-college roommate yes, that’s right, she’s TOTALLY LUCKY that she got to spend two years living with This Girl who WOULDN’T be?), and then the weekend after that The Swede and I watched the Chicken Nugget overnight while my sister and brother-in-law were in Milwaukee.
Because of these events—being around children both in utero and on this earth—I think it’s safe to say that I am now an expert on parenting. Added to that fact that A) I was once a child, and 2) I have parents, I thus feel it is my duty to offer up some helpful parental advice to those in need.
You’re welcome in advance.
- Give your child junior golf lessons. Because if your other children got junior golf lessons but then one child doesn’t, you’ll have to listen to her whine about it for the next 25+ years, and, when she really gets on a tangent, why this is the reason that her short game is for shit. Not, you know, because she rarely plays golf anyway. I’m just saying. You’ve been warned.
- If you leave your child in my care for more than two hours, please bring a bottle of wine and/or gin with you upon your return. I’m not saying it’s because your child is a holy terror who drives me to drink after two hours alone with him/her, I’m just saying it’s common courtesy. And because whatever you did have to drink in your house is gone due to the “tea party” your kid hosted. That Mr. Bear can really knock them back, am I right? Also, don’t expect junior to wake up until Tuesday. You can thank me later.
- Let your kid run around naked. What kid have you met who doesn’t love a little naked time? And look at it this way: It’s less laundry to do.
- Don’t freak out about your house being messy and/or covered in toys when I come over. You have kids. It goes with the territory. And if other people start giving you shit about it, fuck ‘em.
- Don’t throw away that faux-mosaic Miller Lite chandelier you stole from the bar five years ago—hang some mini stuffed animals from it and call it a mobile. I’m all about repurposing.