One of the most fundamental parts of parenting is getting used to your children thinking you’re an idiot. Before we had kids I anticipated this, but I did not realize just how early it would begin. I expected teenagers to think I was an idiot, but I never anticipated to get so much grief from the five-year-old zoologist and the three-year-old ballerina. Thankfully, the one-year-old demolitions expert doesn’t seem to think I am an idiot yet. Mostly she just holds her hands up and yells, “Da-eeee, Da-eee, Da-eee!”
Small humans don’t come right out and tell you they think you are an idiot. Mostly you get disconcerted looks, sighs, and the occasional comment like, “So, you don’t really know do you?” Lately this seems to be happening a lot.
Over the last few days these are the reasons my kids thought I was an idiot:
A few months ago we went to the Dallas Aquarium. When asked I didn’t remember where the jaguar food was in the habitat.
I also didn’t remember what particular month we went to the aquarium.
I also didn’t remember specifically what time of the day we want to the aquarium.
I was unable to scientifically explain to their satisfaction exactly why it is raining today, but it was not yesterday.
I didn’t know what those people over there were talking about.
I couldn’t make the cars in front of me at a red light move at will.
I think one of the Wild Kratts is named Martin. (BECAUSE. HE. IS)
I got rid of cable which means we can no longer watch PJ Masks. Never mind the fact that no one has wanted to watch PJ Masks for at least 10 months.
I want to sleep.
I don't think "take a shower" is code for "flood the bathroom."
I persisted in calling the ballerina by her given name as opposed to her chosen nickname.
I made an offhand reference to a kangaroo when I was apparently supposed to be talking about a red kangaroo.
Yep, I’m an idiot.