“TT put that down!!”
“Sissy get out of the trash!”
I find myself saying the same things over and over and over. Then I ask myself: “Are my kids are super bad or am I a soft, overprotective father who can’t rest?” This puzzled me for a few days. Now that I’ve done some research, I would say the latter. My kids are normal toddlers that do normal mischievous things. The Internet says I suffer from serious case of “Helicopter Parent.”
You know those parents! They are the ones who catch every crumb before it falls and fly in like Superman every time their child stumbles. Those are the mind-readers who can have a juice box ready in the blink of an eye.
Yeah, that’s me. Back in the day we called it “spoiled rotten” and blamed it on the kid. Nowadays it’s all the parent’s fault. I worried that I them too much sugar, gave them too much space, let them pick their own friends. “Don’t buy them too much, they won’t appreciate it.”
Then I heard a country song by Conway Twitty that put me back on track: “That’s my job.” Yeah, I’m talking about country music! I admit I’m black, I’m from the ghetto and I love country music but that’s another blog by itself. And no, it’s not a typo I said Twitty not Twitter. But music like this tells you what a parent does from the poop to the Diploma “Because that my job…that’s what I do” as Mr. Twitty would say.
So I’ll be taking a page out the Kanye West book of life on this one and be a little arrogant. My wife and I are good friends to have. Ask anyone! We’re fun, educated, pay our own way and the kids too, I might add. We love to eat and shop. When the kids can replace all that then I will let them go… maybe!
So for everyone out there in social media land who has made up a name for me not missing one hour, one bruise, one new word then call me what you want. Anytime you see the Scott crew you better know the Comedy Dad is flying low and ain’t too far from the base.
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