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JevInstincts There are times I wonder about my ability to be a parent. There was no test, no general aptitude questionnaire, no restrictions, no probationary period, no licence. Have some a bit of fun with the wife, wait a few months and then you're presented with a little bundle of joy that doesn't come with a user's manual. Sure there were some well intentioned gifts from family and friends. A host of books that described in painstaking detail how to raise your child in a few easy steps. From Doctor Spock to Babies for Dummies. All designed and written to show you, should you ever read the books later on, what you did wrong and what you should have done. Case in point. Table manners. Table manners are important. Knowing what to do and when to do it, and all that stuff is important. As many of you know I have a seriously unheathly fascination with juvenile humour. Especially noises. Burping and such (see how I used my discretion and didn't say fart?) are high on my list of the funniest things on earth. Having kids has given me a new lease on life, and has also created what can only be described as the great divide at the dinner table. Those with manners, and those without. So far on the side with manners is my wife. A sterling example of all that is good, and on the other side there's me and the kids. Poster children for bad behaviour. To be fair to the kids, it's not them, it's me. I'm a bad example. At least I'm consistent. Jevon the Tall |
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