Man, am I behind on posting. And I hate that. And I apologize.
Unfortunately, my blogging schedule is under the control of a certain Miss Screams-A-Lot and lately she’s been just whack, all slave-driver-ish and “parent me more”-ish and stuff. You know … doing her part to make sure we stay a two-child family.
When she’s happy and chillin’ like a villain I’m able to spend Avery’s naptimes blogging and practicing my yak-wrestling, but when she’s grumpy … all that gets done around here is a bunch of nothing. And by “bunch of nothing” I mean “drinking”. So needless to say, no blog posts. But on the plus side, I’ve got new space in the wine cabinet! Score!
Our recent difficulties with Ave combined with typical toddler-esq behaviours from Mace (seriously, who gets by on no food past 2pm? Who? Oh that’s right, my kid. Jenny Craig users would love his secret) have left Jamie and I tired, beaten-down and grouchy … and yet we keep truckin’ on. Its impressive, really. If you had asked me 5 years ago if I could function with the limited sleep and delirium-inducing arguments and screaming I’m forced to listen to every day, I’d say no. And yet here I am!
This got me thinking. It got me thinking about love, life … and the CIA. Yes, the CIA. I’m starting to wonder if they’ve caught on to the fact that parents would make the perfect CIA agents? Think about it.
1. Lie with an ease that would shock the Pope. Lying is an everyday thing for parents. You lie to your kids about what time it is, where their noisy toy went, what’s actually in their food, and the existence of various holiday characters (Santa, I’m looking at you). I have a girlfriend who, upon being caught drinking chocolate milk by her daughter, told her that it was actually poop without batting a lash. True, it took some explaining later when her daughter began gleefully telling anyone who would listen that her mommy drank “poo milk”, but that’s beside the point. The point, my friends, is that that kind of quick-thinking doesn’t grow on trees. And the CIA should be paying attention. I mean, poop milk. It’s takes talent to come up with that.
Piggy-backing off that skill, parents also …
2. Have an innate ability to spot a liar.
It takes one to know one, and parents are exposed to truth-falsifiers on a daily basis. “Mother, I swearrrrr I don’t know why baby brother is suddenly crying uncontrollably as I walk innocently away from his rocker”, and “No ma’am, I am not walking around with shizen in my pants, and how dare you insinuate so!” are but two examples of falsehoods parents wade through each day. This ability to spot a liar is not limited to children, either; the parental knack for calling bullshit on Mompetitors’ stories is renowned (though that doesn’t mean we’re ballsy enough to actually say anything).
3. Have superhuman pain tolerance. No, I’m not singularly referring to childbirth here. Its important to note those other weird, random pain-inflictions that one can only experience as a parent: having your nipple used as a chew toy by an over-eager and clearly over-hungry sadist (sadly not the sexy Christian Grey); smiling through the mauling of your cheeks and eyes by baby and her serrated fingernails; receiving a nose-breaking head butt from a 10 month old; and of course, having to watch an entire episode of Manon. Fathers have an additional area to worry about; with toddlers at the exact-right height, crotch-sacking during playtime is a common occurrence. CIA, take note! If a parent is ever subjected to torture, chances are they can handle it.
4. Are already trained in Good Cop/Bad Cop. If there are two parents in the house, then a Good Cop/Bad Cop routine has been performed numerous times, and subsequently honed to CIA-approved levels. Jamie and I have this down pat, and can play off each other like skilled actors: “Come on, buddy … take two bites of supper. That’s all you have to do, and then you get dessert. Alright? If you don’t, mommy’s going to be mad and take away the chocolate cake. Do it for me, buddy! Just take two bites, ok?” (meanwhile, mommy’s in the background waving the chocolate cake over the garbage can like a lunatic and screaming “I’ll do it! I swear! Two bites or the cake gets it!”). Terrorist interrogations? Phfffff. Try meal-time negotiations with a picky eater and call me in the morning.
5. Are well-versed in surveillance and technology. Video monitors, sound machines, GPS tracking devices, and even QR code tattoos … parents will out-app your CIA ass any day of the week. Enough said.
I’m sure there are loads of other reasons why the CIA should begin payrolling parents as spies but frankly, this list is all I have time to pound out during Ave’s craptastic nap. What do you think?