Hey, I’m crazy about my kids. I wouldn’t trade them or my experience as a dad for anything.
I try to always keep them in the loop. I try to keep them informed, and make them part of what’s going on in our lives.
I try to be as honest with them as possible. I don’t think little white lies do anyone any good, even our kids.
Sure, it’s easier to tell a little white lie than the truth sometimes. But I prefer to just say nothing at all in these instances.
Why? Because there are things you really can’t say to your kids. Let me be clear. You WANT to say these things. Oh man, do you EVER want to say these things sometimes but one societal norm or another is likely preventing you from doing it. Or perhaps it’s just something that’s best kept as your little secret.
Here’s a small list of things I’ve wanted to say at one point or another, but never have…
“No, I’m not listening to you. I generally tune out after about 20 seconds of “and then Jenna threw a crayon, and then we played with shapes, and then..”
“Actually, honey, it wasn’t the tooth fairy that was cheap. It was me. I think you’re seriously over-estimating the value of that tooth.”
“No, the Fisher-Price Kidz Select-A-Tune Radio isn’t broken. I took the batteries out when you were sleeping. It was that or giving up the last ounce of my sanity.”
“Sure, I tell you to ignore the bully or to try to work things out, but realistically, nothing would shut her up quicker than a swift kick to the gut.”
“Yeah, that macaroni work of art? I threw it out. And the four before that too. I’m going to throw the next one out too.”
“You have every right to be terrified of getting your shots at the doctor’s office. I hate needles and I faint when I see them. Run, kid. RUN!”
“No, I do NOT want to put Radio Disney on in the car. If I hear it one more time, Imma break out the sledgehammer and take that radio out.”
“I’d be totally happy to get you whatever you’re asking for. As soon as you learn to speak clearly and I’m able to understand a single word you’re saying.”
“Honestly. What did you expect would happen when you ate the 27th plum? I’ll get more toilet paper.”
“Not all the time, but just once in a while, I wish I could put you in a kennel and just go to Safeway in peace and quiet.”
“Whenever it’s possible, I blame my farts on you. I have since you were born.”
“I haven’t actually tracked the exact number, but my guess is that between 50-60% of your Halloween candy ends up in my tummy every year.”
“Um, no, actually I can kick your butt at Candy Land. And every other game at this point in time. I know that will change, but you ought not to brag about beating me. Or it will stop.”
“How on Earth does that finger painting resemble me? How many eyes do you think I have?”
“I love you. Like crazy! But you are seriously the worst conversationalist. Ever. I need to talk to someone else before I lose my mind.”
“I might round up the actual time so you go to bed earlier. Every night.”
“I find it very easy to love you. When you’re asleep.”
“Don’t you dare tell your mother I said this, but you’re right. Farts are always hilarious.”
“I’m definitely not saying you were a practice kid, but we’re probably doing a better job with your younger siblings.”
“Santa Claus? Are you kidding? That was ME that stayed up all night putting that thing together. Give me some credit here!”
“When you spin around and do ballet moves and you ask “Are you watching?”, the answer is almost always no. Sorry.”
Feel free to add your own in the comments.
I’m sure each and every parent out there has a vault of gems.
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The pictures of my kids are by Bookstrucker Photography. The man is a genius and an artist.