Anger Diary #549: The Parental Prison

Dear Diary …

I don’t know what we all did as parents, but we screwed it up. When we were kids we were pretty much prisoners in our own home, and the wardens … Mom and Dad … controlled everything. We ate when we were told to eat, we were forced to go outside in the prison yard for hours on end, we had to watch whatever terrible boring show they wanted to watch on TV (I mean … Falcon Crest … c’mon), and when it was lights out the warden turned off the light in your cell and you just went to bed and prayed that you didn’t get shanked in the middle of the night.

Fast forward to today … Now I’m not sure when the prison riot actually happened, but it did, and the prisoners rose up and took control of the penitentiary. We’re not the warden anymore … and actually … I think we might be the prisoners now.

Think about it ... We work in the prison kitchen doling out snacks all day, we shuttle them around in the prison van to 247 different activities and play dates, we watch all their crappy shows, and at lights out WE’RE the ones begging to go to bed while they’re busy running around and driving us crazy.

We control nothing … here’s a great example …

The other day my son was home and watching one of his awful shows. Heck … they’re not even shows anymore … he just watches weird people with British accents playing goofy video games. And for the record … I’m not sure how these people managed to turn this into a career that makes way more money than me … but I am totally jealous and doing it wrong. I’m not sure what the secret to success is, but I do know it involves screaming really loud all the time because that’s what they all seem to do.

Anyway … back to my example …

He’s watching this show and then leaves the house with my wife to go run some errand or whatever. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in the living room, and I just wanna have some peace and quiet. So I turn the TV off.

AHHHHH … sweet silence.

An hour goes by and he returns to the house … and the first thing out of his mouth is, “Hey … what happened to my show? Who turned it off?”

So just so I’m clear … you control the television always? So even when you’re not home, I’m supposed to just sit here and let the weird British guy yell at me? Or even better … just stare at your show that you’ve put on pause … like some sort of dog watching a bug crawl on the wall? That's what I'm supposed to do?

Yeah … we are definitely not the wardens anymore. Not even close!

And by the way Diary … here’s the other issue with having kids in the house … the snacks. And I’m not even talking about the endless parade of snacks that they eat all day long … I’m just talking about the fact that I can’t control myself with all these snacks in the house.

I mean … I can’t deprive these kids of the joy of being able to plow through an endless supply of Cheezits, Doritos, Goldfish, or whatever else. It’s the only time in their lives they can do this without paying for it on the ol’ waistline. But me … I’m weak!

Hey … it’s not like you’re any stronger, so stop laughing! You try getting a kid a handful of delicious, crunchy Cheezits without at least putting one in your mouth. Ain’t no way you can do it! And one becomes two and two becomes three and three becomes “Oh screw it, I’ve already ruined my diet for the day anyway.”

I don’t have that kind of willpower! It’s one thing to just live in a house that doesn’t have any junk food in it, but that ain’t where I live!

“Well just eat a carrot stick.”

You eat a carrot stick you hamster! I want Pringles!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.