Every so often (or maybe more often than every so often) I have my doubts about my parenting skills. Like, maybe I am giving the kids a bad example by playing video war games or not taking them on some new educational jaunt each weekend or maybe, even, raising my voice a little when they ask me for the fifth time in 48 seconds if they can watch Thomas the Tank Engine now.
Then I see something like THIS. (Words fail me at this point so feel free to editorialize here.)
And I realize that, compared to some, I Am Super Parent. I am Ward and June and Ricky Ricardo (sin Babalu, por supuesto) and Dr. Spock and Dr. Sears and Gomez Addams and Cliff Huxtable all rolled into one ball of Perfect Parenting Goodness. And so is Mrs. JJ Daddy-O, too. (Not that I ever doubt that, honey.) Is that the Soft Prejudice of Low Expectations at work? If so, I am willing to live with it.