Someone once asked,
"Why are parents so impatient for a child to take
his first steps and speak his first words, when the parents will spend
the next 17 years telling the kid to shut up and sit down?"
I disagree. I see a walking child as one who can bring me my slippers
from the other side of the room, and a talking child as one whom I can
intelligently warn about the dangers of life. For example:
Don't pet that dog; it will eat your face off.
Don't go into the street; a car will run you over and you'll end up
like a banana pancake. That includes your new shoes.
Don't forget to wash your hands after playing in the sand. There are
tiny eggs under your fingernails that get into your mouth and hatch in
your belly, and then at night worms crawl out of your bottom. (I
especially like this one because after I say it, I get a 10-minute
break as they discuss it quietly among themselves.)
Don't crawl into the refrigerator. There is green stuff on the
leftovers that is growing faster than you are. By morning it will
break out of the plastic containers and beat you up.
Don't touch the knives. You'll cut off your fingers and then you can
say goodbye to things like ripping off your diaper, locking yourself
in the bathroom and poking the dessert just before the company comes.
Don't stand around with your fingers in your nose. Other kids will
think you're creepy and throw sand at you. Plus, their parents will
wonder where you learned it.
Don't unbuckle your seat belt. You might get put in prison. You'll
have to celebrate your birthday with a bunch of murderers, perverts
and lawyers.
Don't bite on that electrical cord. There's fire inside that will blow
up your teeth. You'll never be able to chew paper, old gum from the
sidewalk or dog kibble again.
Don't try to climb over the balcony railing. You'll flip over the top
and die, then go to a place where a bunch of other bullheaded kids
will hit you on the head with a plastic rake when God's not looking.
Don't open the dishwasher and jump up and down on the door. Mommy will
have to call a repairman, then Daddy will die.
Don't put your tongue on that. A dog went pee-pee there.
Don't eat those mushrooms in the grass. Remember the king in the Babar
book; he did that, turned green and died. You hate green.
Don't drink anything in the garage. It's all poison and we'll have to
take you to the hospital and they'll put tubes in your stomach and
pump everything out. It will hurt when the Barbie head comes back up.
Don't lick the pigeons. It's bad enough we're feeding them moldy
bread.
Don't play in the fireplace. A reindeer went pee-pee in there.
Don't hit Mommy's old computer with that toy hammer. If it breaks,
Daddy will have to buy a new one. On second thought, here's a real
hammer.
Don't try to kiss the goat. It eats garbage and will go after whatever
that thing is in your mouth.
Don't play in the toilet. Remember, the toilet is dirty even though it
looks clean, and your cup is clean even though it looks dirty.
Don't keep on wearing those old shoes. They're too small and your feet
will shrivel up like the potatoes in the vegetable drawer and you
won't be able to run away from me.