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Bad Dad

May 20, 2012

Before we get to New Business, we need to start with Old Business thanks to a recent comment from Burnt My Fingers. And I hope that we are not too late.

The Tour de Hard Ice Cream is next Saturday, May 26. The original date was changed and I tried to make sure everyone was aware of that with a massive call out header at the top of the post. Hopefully there is no confusion. And if you can come, please go to the post and RSVP in the comments.

Any other Old Business? Okay. Seeing none, we shall move onto New Business.

If my memory is right, there was some kind of scuttlebutt around these parts involving lying to your kids. Well, I have a story to share where I was busted doing just this by two of my local blogger friends: Michele and Leah.

Here’s what went down.

Young Master Fussy was “graduating.” It’s a word that I hate because it’s become so overused that it loses any kind of meaning or significance. Kids graduate from kindergarten now. All that hard work at the water table has really paid off and now they can go on to achieve their goals of going to a really meaningful experience in first grade. But then there is a graduation from first grade, second grade, and so on.


So I was at one of these “graduations” recently and Young Master Fussy was there (along with his classmates and their parents) showing me all the projects he completed for the event. One of them happened to be a loaf of bread.

With great ceremony, he took a piece of the bread for himself, and gave me a piece to try as well. It didn’t look promising. It didn’t look promising at all. Maybe at one time it was delicious. But given the timing of when this project must have been completed until the actual “graduation” event, this bread was surely frozen and thawed in a plastic bag.

And it tasted like it.

So I chewed and swallowed the small bite of the small piece that I held in my hand, looked down into his large, expectant eyes, and told him, “Nice job.”

When I noticed his eyes dart away for a moment, I stealthily palmed the rest of the bread, so that I could inconspicuously throw it away later. And then I looked up. And I saw Michelle. And I saw Leah. And I saw that they saw.

I am proud of the kiddo’s accomplishments. He’s learned a lot this year. And if he’s interested in making bread, maybe he’s old enough to actually make real bread at home. He’s too young to apprentice out to Nick & Britin, but they’ve got a daughter. Maybe they can start a summer baking camp or something.

However, even if the little fellow became a master baker, I’d still have to eat the stuff he makes at school. And I’ll have to do the same thing with Little Miss Fussy too. The truth I have to live with is that I lie to my kids too. But it kills me. And apparently when I do it, despite how hard I try, it’s painfully obvious to those around me.

So maybe that means that I really can’t do it. I don’t know. I’m just miffed I got caught.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. May 20, 2012 12:41 pm

    This isn’t really a lie. Young Master Fussy did do a good job, he just wasn’t given the appropriate ingredients or tools to make it taste better. I am sure that it wasn’t lack of effort. K’s tasted like stale cardboard. And, sometimes it is ok to say something that may not be 100% accurate if you need to bolster a child’s confidence. In these cases it isn’t a lie, the proper term is “taking parental license.” That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

  2. May 20, 2012 12:57 pm

    Well, hey, you didn’t want to crush his dreams. And who knows, maybe he’ll keep at it and become a master baker someday. Not to mention that for his age, that probably WAS a pretty good loaf of bread.

  3. May 21, 2012 12:44 pm

    Meh, you said “nice job” not “this is delicious and the crumb is perfect.” Fluffing up his ego for his efforts is not lying. It’s like “thanks for the hand-colored tie and/or macaroni picture frame.” Not great, but you know. Sweet. Thoughtful.

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