The Least Of Your Problems

Dear Alternadad:

When they can reach tables, does life get more complicated?

Oh, for those days of parental innocence! I mean, of course life gets slightly more complicated when your child can reach a table. But really. If your biggest worry is whether or not your child is going to pull something off a table, then you're shitting in clover. The question could be rephrased as such: "When they choke their best friend in a playground argument, does life get more complicated?" Or: "When they call you a fucking poopyhead in public, does life get more complicated?" Or: "When a friend's older brother shows them a DVD of Alien Vs. Predator, does life get more complicated?" Yes, yes, and yes, and onward toward infinity.

Raising a child involves nothing but complications, some more serious than others, each one more ludicrous than the next. The only way to survive is to handle each situation the best you can, according to whatever values you've cobbled together during the course of your short, basically meaningless life, and hope it all adds up to creating a reasonably interesting, productive, kind, and helpful person. Sometimes, when it seems that your kid's only purpose in life is to work the topics of dog poop, video games, or Indiana Jones into every conversation, that seems very far away. But you need to persevere, because you don't have any damn choice.

Also, they never stop knocking stuff off tables.