Not So Bad, Really

Just when I think I'm a terrible mother, I get validation that I'm not so bad after all.

No doubt about it, there are nincompoops out there that never should have spawned. A case in point is a total friggin' goober who got high off Xanax and decided to let his eight-year old drive the family roadster. As you can imagine, this didn't end well for anyone. His little guy almost ran over two people before he plowed into a tree, wrecking the car and his father's future chances to win Dad of the Year. All of this happened in my quiet little hamlet, just a few miles from my house! What a moron.

Then there's the goofball unemployed mother of six in California who decides that she can easily handle another eight children by herself while collecting government disability checks. I'm sure each and every one of her fourteen children will get all of the love and nurturing they need to become healthy, vibrant, confident, successful men and women. Yeah. Right. Oh, by the by, she has set up her own web site to collect "donations", citing that no one person can raise fourteen children on her own. No shit, Sherlock.

Finally, there's the story of yet another sad sack of characters who allowed a five-year old to be abducted from their mobile home. The little girl and her three year old brother were being "watched" by the father's 17-year old girlfriend at the time. The girl who was "watching" the girl said, "She was sleeping right next to me. I can't believe I didn't hear anything." (Cue the banjo music.) Come on! Either something fishy is going on, or this dolt of a teenager should never be responsible for taking care of anyone other than herself and possibly a very hearty goldfish. Also, here's a quick piece of advice to the teenage girl: Don't Date Dads.

So, as you can read, I have my knickers in a twist today. It pisses me off to see people acting so casually with the lives of children, as if they are something with which to be trifled. Children are glorious little people -- people who look up to us big people for guidance, comfort, safety, encouragement, support, and love. Hey Doofuses, don't bring the little ones into your own personal nightmares. They didn't do anything to deserve it.

(Theresa officially steps off of her soapbox.)

That being said, I feel pretty good that the only numbskull parenting thing I did today was spill orange juice on Emma's beautifully decorated Secret Valentine's box. I know; I'm such a shit.

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For your consideration and/or comment:

What do you think makes parents do crazy things?

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