Notice to My Children
It has come to my attention that some of you have made utter fools of yourselves recently, lately, in the distant past, or will do so in the future. It is only fair that I warn you that, if you go too far with your tomfoolery,
I AM STILL GOING TO LOVE YOU TERRIBLY.
This terrible love is painful to me, my young fools, because it is entirely unrewarding and Not Fun. The Surgeon General has determined that parenting can be dangerous to the heart, stomach, and spleen and can cause premature graying, baldness, and insomnia.
Therefore, until further notice, your father and I demand the following:
- You do not have to be 100% perfect. We will settle for perfect Within Normal Limits.
- Any mistakes you make must be modest in size, and legal.
- Your youthful brashness and arrogance must remain tolerable, or at least amusing, at all times, giving your father and me something to chuckle about over coffee.
- Crises are allowed, but must be manageable and must not involve changing diapers, paying child support, or visiting anyone in prison.
- Emergency rooms, hospitals, and morgues are absolutely off limits. I am not joking.
- When you call to say, “I’ve had a wreck,” the first words out of your mouth had better be, “I’m OK.”
- Behaviors that embarrass us must be equal and proportional to behaviors that make us proud and give us something to brag about.
Signed,
The Mgmt.
