Like just about any parent, there are certain values I believe I absolutely must teach my children: kindness, charity, responsibility, compassion, and love, among others. While I realize most of these I still need to learn a lot about myself, I also understand that these lessons often take a lifetime to fully appreciate.
With that in mind, I hope that if I continue to grow in these virtues, I’ll be able to teach my children that they are what we need to strive for. We are all works-in-progress; even though none of us is perfect, there are certain things we try our best to live out. A heartfelt effort is the best we can ask for, and it will often lead to greater results than we’d ever imagined ourselves capable of.
As crucial as these lessons are, there are a couple of other, less momentous things I also consider vital to a good and happy life. A number of these things my mother taught me, and I consider it my duty to pass onto my children (especially any daughters I may have).
These include a) As a matter of fact and not opinion, Dirty Dancing is an excellent movie. The combination of Patrick Swayze, dancing, and that blasted watermelon is a recipe for cinematic perfection; and b) French fries can and should be dipped in milkshakes when the opportunity presents itself.
At thirty-two weeks, I’m continuing to count up the weeks of my pregnancy, but realizing the moment is imminent in which I’ll start counting down to my due date. As that time approaches, I’m more aware of what I have a responsibility to teach our little Peanut.
First and foremost, this child may be born in New York, but its roots are Jersey through and through. This leads to sub-articles a and b, which are that 1a) Taylor ham is the eighth wonder of the world; and 1b) Bon Jovi songs should always, always be accompanied by a succession of fist pumps.
Secondly, the “bagels” at Dunkin Donuts (as much as I love that place) are not really bagels at all—they are round pieces of a bread-like substance, searching for an identity. Real bagels rarely have true holes through them, and are sold at specialty delis that are only open between the hours of six a.m. and three p.m., or something of a similar window.
Thirdly, the Bee Gees did not produce what is considered “good” or “quality” music. “Stayin’ Alive” might be fun every now and then, but I hope our little one will not be fooled, no matter what its father tells it. I trust a few bars of “Good Lovin’” or anything else by the Rascals should sort this one out, should there be any question, ever.
All right, I know you’re out there, readers—or at least folks who accidentally click on my blog a couple of times a week. So here’s your chance to make yourself known: if you could teach one somewhat inconsequential pearl of wisdom to a child in your life (be it son or daughter, niece or nephew, godson or goddaughter), what would it be?