STUFF

Here is the STUFF page. For now all thats here is some writing I did a while back called ‘to parents: the really good ones’

First off I could not (and wouldn’t) write this with ought being a parent. I’m going to be the first to say that when I hear about a horrible story of the things parents do to children it really hurts me, and can be confusing of how a little innocent kid can drive people to do the things that we hear about so much in the news. Mom drives minivan into lake.. parents tie 3 year old up with duct tape.. it is really horrible stuff.

But the truth is there’s not much that divides these monsters.. from us as normal, law abiding loving caring, patient, fun perfect parents. There is a thing called a line. We all know this line, there are some who stray from it.. there are some who flirt with it.. and there are some who just live right on the edge.

We all remember moments of holding the bottle of Tabasco just waiting for just one more “no that’s mine” echo in the house while making your kids peanut butter jelly, or the ever slight jerk of your leg hinting at, but just ever so slightly, tripping a screaming child marauding down the hall.. or a fleeting thought involving over the counter cold medication and something about a peaceful slumber in your new bed.. We all know this line.. and as heinous.. infuriating.. and irresponsible the parents are who know.. and cross the line are we all know we’ve been two ticks on the other side of it and if we hadn’t just got a cell phone call to distract us from jerking the wheel and diving off the grand canyon because all your kids are whiny and ungrateful.. or a look from a spouse.. that says .. “i know what your thinking.. but the basement windows don’t have locks and they could get out.. ” or even just your own conscious, as lost and deep down as it may be. But to the parents out there who will see a screaming child in the supermarket and look up at the parents with a warm smile and say.. “the lobster tanks on isle 5, and nobody’s looking..” I extend my appreciation.

were in this as a team, and to those who wish to cross this line of hazy.. grey area torture and mild abuse.. don’t ruin it for the rest of us. I want to be able to threaten my child with a week of worms for dinner and have them not question me for a second because I followed through once. So again, amen to my fellow dry, sarcastic, and unfailingly funny parents who love, cherish and would die for their children, but also get a kick out of a staged kidnapping when they get a little too friendly with the mailman.