Yesterday we went to Shea's end of season soccer party at Fudruckers. As we were eating a boy from school walked by us, tapped Shea on the shoulder and said, "Hi Shea."
Shea sweetly said hi back. "Hi Brian."
Teasing her, I said, "Oooh Shea whooo's that?"
Shea rolled her eyes at me and said, "It's just Brian from school."
"Oooh is he your boyfriend?"
"No, he's just a boy from school, mom I'm warning you."
"Are you sure he's just your friend? He's pretty cute."
Shea shakes her head at me and gives me this 'you'll be sorry' look. Then she turns around and shouts to the boy across the crowded restaurant,
"HEY BRIAN, MY MOM THINKS YOU'RE CUTE!"
The restaurant goes silent, and I turn around to look at Brian's table. He and his parents glare at me, totally disgusted.
That's when I realize, that I may say that I want the best for my kids, but I don't really want them to be smarter than me. And that's why I won't be buying, Your Baby Can Read. It's bad enough that I've been outsmarted by an 8 year old, if my one year old could read better than me, it would take any shred of dignity I have left. Also, I don't believe that a human who regularly gets diarrhea up his back should be allowed to learn to read, it's the principle of the thing. How about inventing the video and flash cards, Your Baby Can Clean Up His Own Poop. Now there's my meal ticket.