Parenting 101

A couple of nights ago Skipper and I fell into a discussion about how we will raise our child.

"What rules did you? When was your curfew?" Skip asked.

I launched into an explanation of no boys in my room, early curfew on weekdays and a slightly later curfew on weekends...

"Like you were home by?" Skip probed.

Midnight? Or maybe that was just my senior year. To tell the truth I can't really remember. I do remember being home a few minutes late from time to time and "owing" my mom time the following night(s).

"Midnight?! When you were a senior right, not before? No good comes after eleven," Skip exclaimed.

Well, that's probably true. What is also true is I didn't try to get into trouble. My mistakes were for the most part mistakes, not well planned out events. With a raised eyebrow I asked Skip about the rules in his house.   According to him he had a much earlier curfew, and he also remembered pushing limits and trying to break the rules.

So there we were, the innocent girl being reprimanded by the textbook badboy for her "easy, lenient" upbrining. At this point I'm sure I had a smirk on my face (you know being the rebellious one in the relationship it's hard not to mock the saint). And then he hits me with this:

"I'm going to be like Mr. Rogers in front of our kids. Just you watch."

I laughed hard. It turn my stomach.

The next morning as the saint studiously studied his television lines, I lazily prepared my cereal. I poured the milk with an extra flair to embodied the new image of rulebreaker. Suddenly Skip calls me over to look out the window. In the side-street behind our house four little neighborhood boys stood in a circle waiting for the school bus. Four little juvies between the ages of 12 and 8 smoking! These are the same boys who helped me carry boxes when we moved in.

Skip opened the window and called out, "You boys having fun out there?"

The boys jumped and ran back to the bus stop, our front yard. I laughed hard. Milk shot out my nose.

"See! I can be Mr. Rogers. I'm a great dad." Or Skip said something to that effect, milk was running down my robe, I can't remember the details.

What Mr. Skip Rogers failed to realize that in his attempt to discipline and maintain a friendly voice he actually sounded suspiciously like a dude with a white van asking kids if they want some candy. Combine that with the dark corner his voice was coming from and I'm pretty sure he gave the boys nightmares.

At least we've established our parenting roles early.