About Daughters I: Burqa Envy

Let me first say - I am a modern guy, the only reasons I have doubts about feminine equality is that it does not comport with the reality of feminine superiority (especially my wife's over me.)

However, now that I have a daughter, I understand the burqa. I am not saying I approve, only that I understand.

I have friends and relatives with older daughters and it has been a joy to see them grow up from little girls to charming and lovely young women. I look forward to watching my own daughter grow up (she is only two so there is a way to go - with probably a long pony obsession phase in the meantime).

But I also know how teenage boys think, and when I consider that - suddenly the burqa doesn't seem like the worst idea.

Pesach Traditions

Just like some bonehead decided to create New Coke, there has been a remake of The Ten Commandments.

Aesthetic issues aside, this was a problem. My son and I have a tradition of watching it the night before the first Pesach seder. He is not quite five and this would be our third year watching it. This is a big thing in his life and he was pretty disappointed. Fortunately, it was aired in its fullness Saturday night and he made it almost all the way through.

Between Charlton Heston's hokey acting, the super cheesy dance sequences, and the sheer length of the thing (weighing in at four and half hours with commercials) keeping him up to watch it is borderline child abuse (at least according to my social worker mom.)

But it was worth it the next morning when we told him we'd make his favorite breakfast he arched his eyebrow and intoned, "So it is written. So it shall be done." Clap! Clap!

Do the Hustle

Right now my son is in a tic-tac-toe phase. He can play it endlessly and my efforts to humor him and let him win only encourage him to play more. (There are only so many ways to lose at tic-tac-toe.)

So I am hustling him. We make a bet, I lose, then offer double or nothing. Finally, when the ante is high enough and he is flush with confidence I take him.

Do I feel bad about deceiving my son?

Absolutely not! He gets to play a fun game with Daddy while learning a valuable life lesson (better he learn at home than at a tavern from a guy named Slim.*) And, having taken him – my retirement is covered. He owes me a million-gazillion dollars.

* Don't mess around with that guy. Also, don't tug on Superman's cape, spit into the wind, or try to pull the mask off of the Lone Ranger.

Velcro: A Cost Benefit Analysis

No doubt you vowed that your children would not have velcro shoes - that they would learn to tie their shoes and that velcro was an abomination before the Lord.

I did.

But the other day the preschool director was giving me a foul look when I brought my children in ten minutes late. The reason - besides a blockage in my intravenous coffee drip - a knot in my two year old daughter's shoe. Not to take anything away from Alexander the Great, but I had an additional challenge as I struggled with this Gordita knot*, my four year old was telling me, "Chewbacca and Anakin are friends and together they met Yoda and learned the Force, and Daddy, I'm serious this happened..." Nothing like a high-pitched voice talking extremely fast to improve your concentration and fine motor skills. After ten minutes of this I went to put my son's shoes on. This took some doing because he kept jumping up to roar like a Wookie.

Meanwhile my daughter pulled her shoes and socks off...

They can learn to tie their shoes in college. In the morning I need speed. If velcro shoes save me ten minutes a morning that adds up to an hour a week, which is more than a workweek a year. This will also lower your blood pressure. Plus it saves me the scorn of the preschool teacher.

But, all things have a price. I have lost numerous ties to velcro snaps on their jackets. (Once they learn how to do the velcro on their shoes Pandora's Box is open - it cannot be closed. They will randomly rip open the velcro snaps on their jackets.) This is a price you will have to pay.

* This is a double reference - to the unsolvable Gordian knot that Alexander the Great split with his sword and the Spanish word gordita which means "Little fat one" (yes, like the things they sell at Taco Bell.)

Don't discuss changin' (diapers)

At some point you are going to want to humorously complain to your friends about diaper changing and your child's chemical weapons quality excretions.

Don't.

Your wife will frown at you and observe that you change about one diaper a week. This will set in motion a discussion you do not want to have. When you contest her she will be able to recall, with absolute precision, the time, volume, and velocity of every diaper change going back to the baby's birth. How you, while watching the game promised to "Get the next one" three months ago (she's waiting.) Or the time the baby had one of those IED poops that spattered the room at three AM and she had to run a load of laundry - and you slept.

In short - you lose!

Alternately, on the off chance you do change your share of diapers and you can prove it you will have just shown up your wife as an inadequate mother in front of all your friends. She might cry.

You lose.

Daycare WMD

I have reason to believe that the government is running a network of biowarfare centers at Daycares across America. Children come home with steady streams of new variations of colds, coughs, flus, and fevers. If we want quiet in Iraq, all we need to do is hit them with whatever my son just brought home preschool. Within a day the entire country would be reduced to laying down, moaning, and snorting. At least that's how it worked at my house.