Showing posts with label Rules. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rules. Show all posts

The Unthinkable is Happening…


I’m coming to the realization that I’m slowly turning into my Dad.

At Kohl’s with my wife, I was browsing around and actually considered buying a pair of Dockers pants because they looked comfortable and very practical (wrinkle-free!! When did that brilliance happen??) When we eat at a restaurant and my daughter, or any other family member, barely touches their food - I end up eating the rest. And don’t even ask me to tell a joke in a crowd.
It’s like an alien is taking over my body and I don’t know who I am half the time. The next thing you know I’ll be wearing sandals with socks while mowing the lawn, have a beer fridge in the garage, and running into walls.

It was even more apparent this past weekend as I was nagging my daughter about every weird thing she was doing trying to break her horrifying 5-year old bad hygiene habits.
In my defense, I’ve been extremely paranoid about her getting sick since most kids around us seem to have some sort of weird zombie-type virus: the 7-year old next-door sounds like a 50-year old chain smoking man when she usually sounds like a 40-year old chain smoking woman. A friend’s 16-month old got croup and now sounds like she’s a de-barked beagle. And nearly all of my daughter’s school friends look like they need to hook up some Sears wet-dry shop vacs to their noses because they’ve got a constant stream of snot running down their faces that ends dangerously close to their…(gasp) mouth.

Yes, MOUTH.

I sometimes think to myself, “Wow, kids are really gross. It’s a good thing I was never like that. Ever.”

I’m determined to keep my house free of infections this winter, so I made a list on things my daughter should not be doing and hung it on the refrigerator.
Because everybody knows if it’s hanging on the fridge, it must be really important.


RULES FOR 5-YEAR OLDS AND THEIR FRIENDS.
  1. Don’t pick your nose.
  2. Don’t pick your butt.
  3. Don’t put your fingers in your mouth.
  4. Don’t put whatever that is you picked up in your nose OR your mouth.
  5. Don’t put your mouth on the handrail.
  6. Don’t walk out of the bathroom without washing your hands.
  7. Don’t wipe anything on Daddy’s stylish Wrinkle-Free® Dockers.

(Click to print)

How To Get A Princess To Behave


I was chatting with a fellow Dad at my daughter’s preschool about his son’s crazy obsession with Batman. The costume(s), the jumping off sofa and maybe occasional building; the permanent bat cave installation under the dining table, and the special Batman diet of only potato chips and hot dogs.
I told him he had it easy, my daughter is obsessed with Princesses. Which is just like Batman if he wore pink and sang to animals.

I’m not sure exactly when this all happened; maybe sometime around her 2nd birthday when somebody showed her the Cinderella movie for about 5 minutes. That’s when it became her crack.
At times it can be annoying:

“No, mice aren’t going to pick up that mess you’ve made”
“No, that magic wand isn’t going to make that kid playing with your toys disappear

At times it can be used for my advantage:

“If you don’t behave (holding cell phone to ear) I’m calling Cinderella and she’s going to ask for her stuff back!”

So far, my 3 years of parenting has taught me the "Princess" method sometimes works much better than "time-out" method.
Recently we had the opportunity to see Julie Andrews and a certain Mom asked her if she had any advice for a little Princess.
She did and this is what she said (in her really cool accent):

Princess Rules
A Princess always uses “Please” and “Thank You”
A Princess always thinks of others before herself
A Princess never slouches

Although good, I don’t think there are nearly enough especially for a 3-year old. So I’ve added a few to the list:

Princess Rules (v.2 additions)
A Princesses ALWAYS go poop on the potty.
A Princess NEVER whines.
A Princess NEVER asks, “What are we going to eat?” after leaving a restaurant.
A Princess NEVER watches the Doodlebops, Dora, Yo Gabba Badda, or the new Beverly Hills “90210”