Children and cow bells

Children can be cute. Children can be demonic. Children are as much a pleasure as they are a nuisance. For some people the joys of children outweigh the trouble. For others, there are child leashes.

Just to clarify, I don't have children. One day I would like to, just not right now. Financially speaking, it's just not a good time for me. I don't want to have to join any government-sponsored programs just to get by with Huggies and Pedialyte. No way. If by chance I did have a child, the little attention monger would be using week-old newspaper and be suckling on breasts for nutrition (because we all know it will be way too long before they get to do it again). People always complain about having to wake up in the middle of the night to nurse a crying infant back to sleep, sacrificing their own sanity. Not me. I say, give the little fella a teaspoon (tablespoon for oversize babies) of Jack Daniels. It'll put hair on his (or her) chest. God knows it doesn't have any on its head, poor little bugger.

Even then, I feel I am being somewhat presumptuous. Aside from the financial burden rearing a child brings, I would have to find somebody willing to copulate with yours truly - an event that seems to only happen when Jupiter's 60-something moons align, and even then it has to be a leap year. But don't feel bad for me. No. No. Because that is Jack Daniels' second use, persuasion of the female mind. I would like to be married to the person who one day bears my child, but God knows it's hard enough getting her in the sack. So I guess I'll take what I can get.

But let's just assume that the moons do align and my seed comes to fruition. And I am on a welfare-esque program. I know I will be a good father. I will teach them things I was never taught. I will have tea parties (hopefully only if it's a girl) and teach the boy how to throw a baseball. But before I can do those things to really connect to the little lad or lassie, when they are in that stage where they just run around and scream for no reason, they will be on a leash. On an evening walk, have Fido in the left hand and Junior in the right. My recent trip to Disneyland gave substantial validity to this thought process. There are those little hellians that run a muck with their little mouse-ear hats, you know, the ones who are always reported kidnapped. Then there are the well-behaved ones, those that when they get a little rowdy you just give a quick tug and let them know who's boss.

But heed this warning. It is very possible that this will create a level of codependency that many find uncomfortable. Eventually it could lead to a separation anxiety. And this is bad. Why? I'll tell you. Say you and the Mrs. want to have your biannual adult time. You are both enjoying yourselves (or so she makes you think) when, mid-thrust, out of your peripheral you see your child standing in the doorway. Jaw dropped, with a look of confusion and fear, watching his parents do the proverbial it.

This is why in addition to leashes, your children should also wear cowbells. That way, when you are trying to conquer a move you saw in your latest XXX rental, you can hear the walking contraceptive coming down the hall. This is the perfect opportunity to train your children by granting them responsibility. Simply yell, "Go make some macaroni and cheese!" or something adult-like, maybe start the barbecue or sharpening the kitchen knives.

This is sure to build the foundation of a trusting, healthy relationship with your child, even though you weren't ready to have one in the first place.

Pappy McSlappy is not a licensed therapist, nor does he have any children. He has always imagined himself to be more a "cool uncle" than influential father. He does however stand 6'2", have washboard abs and a six-figure salary. No, that was a lie. He has none of the above.