An Open Letter To Parents Who Write Open Letters To Other Parents After Observing Them For Five Minutes
How did you get so smug? It’s an honest question really, I always veer on the side of “I’m not really sure what I’m doing” so I wanted to see how the other half lives. It must be a real brain-drain to run around dissecting everyone’s parenting all day long. I would love to benefit from your wisdom – since you are clearly perfect – but I’m too busy wading through all of your superiority to really pay attention to your point.
You’re disgusted byÂ the man who snaps at his son in line at Walmart. I was going to ask you if you’ve ever been to a Walmart, but clearly you have since you’re judging him from the checkout lane. Do you not understand how annoying Walmart can be? You may have thought it was the cutest thing ever when his son was asking him about juice boxes, but you really have no idea how many times he’s heard that phrase today, do you? Not every moment is teachable. Sometimes we’re just tired and want to get home and want our kids to stop asking us about juice for five fucking seconds. Surely you can understand that, can’t you?
Or the lady who dares to look at her cell phone while out with her kids – she’s terrible isn’t she? Surely you understand that the kids are at a park and should be able to entertain themselves for five minutes without being entertained by their mom, right? When I shot a couple kids out of my vagina, did I sign an invisible pact to stare at them lovingly every minute of every day? If I knew that was part of the deal I would have told everyone up front that I would fail miserably at this whole parenting thing.
What about the dad who doesn’t join mom in tucking the kids in for bed – he’s the worst isn’t he?
Dear Dad in the Recliner,
Long day, huh?
I bet it feels good to put your feet up.
Where is your wife?
Oh, she is tucking the children in bed.
Can I ask you something?
Why arenâ€™t you in there?
TheyÂ needÂ you, Daddy.
For the love of Christ and all things holy – leave these parents alone. If you are a parent that relishes every minute of your child’s existence – never averting your gaze or losing your patience – you win, okay? You’re the best parent around. Here’s your cookie/gold star/trophy:
There it is. You’re better than the rest of us. Stop writing us letters to tell us what a crap job we’re all doing. That time would be way better served staring at your children lovingly, wouldn’t it?