There are sideline benefits to having kids (apart from
having organ donors on tap) that I had not considered. Here’s one. Criticism By
Proxy. I have never, ever before, been able to say:
Did silly mummy put your nappy on backwards? She’s so silly.
Look at how silly she is. Daddy wouldn’t make those mistakes. No! Gusha gooo
gooo.
Did crazy mummy think that a bath this deep wouldn’t drown
you? Crazy mumma. Dadda wouldn’t do that, would he? He’d make it safe, wouldn’t
he? Yes he would. Yes he would. Yes he zsha zsha gia boo gia boo.
Did mumma push the plutonium rods too far into the reactor
just before the Soviet Delegation got here? Silly mumma. She does that, doesn’t
she? A gusha goo goo blatty bum.
The avenues for self righteousness open up before me in nauseatingly
proliferate ways.
