Getting Rolled Over as a Role Model

I am a family man. This means a lot of different things. It means I have been awakened in the wee hours of the morning because a person measuring less than two and half feet tall has managed to usurp nearly the entire surface area of a king size bed and in the process placed a heel directly into my kidney. It means I have an abnormally high amount of concern regarding the number of lights left on in the basement, why there are seven pairs of shoes in the living room when only five people live in the house, and what exactly is allowed to go into the drain of the kitchen sink. It also means I have to set a good example. All things being equal, I would rather have my kidney mauled by a three year old.
Being a role model is truly one of the most important aspects of being a parent. One of the difficulties is you are one whether you are aware of it or not. My parents were much better at this than I am. I never heard my father say a word which could be deemed R-rated and very seldom heard him use any curses beyond what one hears in comic book adventures from the fifties. To this day I have yet to hear my mother say anything mean spirited. But when my first born daughter was out in the back yard and became displeased with something and the word “damn” emitted from those cherubic lips all eyes turned immediately to me. Actually, the only eyes in the vicinity belonged to my wife, but as all married men know those eyes are powerful eyes, laser beam powerful, triple garlic sauce breath powerful, don’t look directly at the eclipse or you’ll go blind powerful. My daughter had, of course, learned this word from me. In my defense I only used it as an adjective when discussing the dog. So I was surprised Emilyjane used it in a sentence not pertaining to the canine. When I tried to point out her usage of the invective in a whole different context was a sign of her advanced intellect it did not help my cause, but it was a creative way to attempt to get out of damn dog house.
Recently my wife and eldest daughter (whose use of blue language has improved) decided it was time to pay more attention to eating in a healthy manner. This means more vegetables, skim milk, cereal not featuring cartoon characters on the box, and snack foods which have the calorie count written in a font larger than the “Dewey Defeats Truman” headline from the Chicago Tribune in order to shame you into only eating one serving, which turns out to be not so difficult after you taste them. You’ve heard the phrase “collateral damage” meaning the unintentional injury or damage which occurs around military action. Well, I am a victim of collateral diet.
A product which has infiltrated my home is a “shake” in a can which describes itself as chocolate. This is like Barry Manilow advertising himself as a rock singer. There may be similarities on some very basic level, maybe a molecular level, but that is as close as it gets. This product not only has the temerity to call itself chocolate but it also claims it is “a delicious meal substitute.” Well, I have news for you Mr. Nutritious Chocolaty Liquid in a can. I know another delicious meal substitute: a bag of Fig Newtons.
But, as I said, being a family man means I have to be a role model. Ergo, I eat the vegetables served at dinner, refrain from complaining about skim milk (which should really be called milk tainted water), and hide the real snack foods in my sock drawer.
If I’m being truly honest I think there is one thing missing in today’s society which existed in the kinder gentler days gone by which should be brought back in full force. I’m not talking about such out-dated things as mothers who have no choice but to stay home and cook dinner and do laundry. I do not mean that children should be simply seen and not heard, not even fully valued as people. I mean double standards should not only be allowed but encouraged.
“Mom, how come Dad gets to have seven chocolate doughnuts and Dr. Pepper for breakfast and I have to eat this pebbles and twigs cereal?”
“Because he’s the dad.”
Hey, I guy can dream can’t he?