My Children Were Cute In The Wrong Era.

Me and one of my previously little ham balls.

In all fairness, my kids are still “funny”, but it’s more in an intentional, “I can be Jerry Seinfeld” kind of way rather than “Kids Say The Darndest Things”. They are funny in the sense that they are grown and are able to write the funny on their social media sites instead of me getting all the glory.

This sucks on a platform of levels:

  1. I can’t profit or gain followers from their cuteness. Just like if they’re looking absolutely adorable, it’s creepy to post a ton of pics of your “kids” after they turn a certain age. Why oh why weren’t they born in the ‘profit from your children’ era? What is cute for a child pic that makes you think, “Aww!” is now “What is WRONG with him/her?”
  2. They could and probably would sue me. Now a day if I post something funny or ridiculous they say, it’s more like, “Take that down now!” and I have to oblige otherwise I’ll receive another subpoena for the holidays.
  3. What was once, “Kids Say The Darndest Things”, quickly becomes, “Why would you humiliate me like that? I hate you!”

There was the time, because a friend of mine was expecting, my then 4 year old while being ogled by a gaggle of elderly church ladies; she started to twirl, stuck out her gut and groaned, “Oooh, I’m so pregnant, the baby is moving, I feel sick!”. The time where, due to working a late shift, I made the mistake of taking a nap with her when she was two and I thought she was safely asleep in her room. I work up to find her on my back painting me with nail polish and saw she did the same to the entertainment center, television, and coffee table.

While Ashley was always saying cute and shocking things; my son, Jonathon was always Mr. Literal. I could start a Twitter account on all the conversations I’ve tried to have with him and his constant corrections when I try to use metaphors, similes, etc. I felt as if I were raising Spock.

When my children were younger their expressions, dances, outlook on life, and daily moments, kept me in stitches. If you verbally told a bunch of strangers about your children’s day to day conversations, or hooked up a VCR (on the off chance you had a huge camcorder on the ready any given moment of the day or night) and played them a constant stream of your kids doing silly things… or even took rolls of photos, ran to the store and waited to get them developed to share with a bunch of strangers, you’d probably find people avoiding you at all costs.

I think also applies to my generation and generations prior to the 21st century. I think I was cute and funny, but I only have fading memories of witnesses to go by. I didn’t have an entire internet to say, “Awww”, or laugh at my clumsiness, my cute observations, or my mishaps.

The reason I’m writing this is because I came across, “Exploding Unicorn“. With his natural sense of humor and a litter of adorable little girls, he was given a lot of material to work with. I’m jealous because his Twitter account of all the fun interactions with them are going to be a like a scrapbook or memory book for when they get older.

As it is, while I’m approaching middle age, I read “Exploding Unicorn” and tell my son, “You were such a funny kid *sigh*.” He asks, “Why, what did I do?” I have to pause, try to remember, only to answer, “Ugh, I don’t know. I can’t remember, maybe you weren’t.” 

Maybe in another 20 years they can start a Twitter account for me when all the crazy things I say would be a little more endearing and cute than eye roll inducing.



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