Well. They finally switched to Blue’s Clues.
But by the time Oliver and Company finished it’s last go, I was singing along.
Maybe after the kids go to bed tonight, I can arrange for the VCR to eat that tape…
Nah. If I did that, they’d just whiiiiiiiiiiine all day long.
The amazing thing is, you’ve apparently snowed this anarchic bunch of people here (myself included), plus about everyone but Zest over at Fathom, that you do indeed know just about everything. (Maybe eventually your 12 year old will come around, too - though it may take him another 12 years.)
You know, maybe Cecil isn’t really Ed… :eek:
Wait a minute…you mean there’s still an adult human left on the planet who doesn’t think that tomndebb knows everything? No way! :eek:
[sub]But I’ve been a tomndebb groupie for so long I honestly don’t remember ever NOT thinking he didn’t know everything…:D[/sub]
Once your kid hits 16, he will suddenly, horribly, inexplicably realize not only are you human…but you are related to HIM. You carry the same GENES.
He is your spawn.
This will send him in a downward spiral that will last for years to come.
Nothing personal. Just normal teenager-ness.
Thank God “normal teenagerness” stops effecting their pint-sized brains by the time they get to be 20-somethings.
The Chapters of Life on being a Parent
Necessary for Diaper Detail
God-like
Dirtbag, scum-sucking, Mr.-You-Don’t-Know-Jack
OK, Maybe You Weren’t So Dumb After All
Oy, Dad You’re A Pretty Smart Cookie
God-like
Diaper Detail Necessary
Eeeewwwww, you mean Mom & Dad actually “DID IT”???
No way, man, no way!
. . . but this struck a chord.
For reasons that I won’t go into, my daughter–14 and starting her freshman year in high school–was desperate to get into a different school (one better known as Padua High in Ten Things I Hate About You). I made several phone calls, but was told at all points that there was just no way–the class was overbooked as it was. She pretty much accepted the fact, but her disappointment was evident. Then, about a week before the start of school, I got a call to the effect that if I could get a release from her assigned school and enroll her that day, it could be done. And it was.
Let me emphasize one thing: all I did was make some phone calls and make a minor pest of myself; all the real work was done by others (including, I suspect, my father–who had died about six weeks before). But from my daughter’s reaction, you would have thought that I’d won the lottery, cured cancer, and untied the Gordian Knot, all during one coffee break. And something that I’d known subconciously hit me in the face: how easy it is to be a hero/heroine to one’s children. And how desperately they seem to want it (even at the “Dirtbag, scum-sucking, Mr.-You-Don’t-Know-Jack” stage). And, at least from what we see on the news and in the paper, how few parents make the effort.
The point (if any) to this ramble: it’s always possible to be “God, or something.” You just need to use different tactics.
We now return to the thread in progress . . .