Baby Proof - Week 18

Here's a story for you, little one. When I was a little boy, maybe 3 or 4 years old, I recall my papa caught me inserting finishing nails into electrical sockets. Seemed logical. Here were a few nails and there was a hole in the wall. I was doing my part to tidy up the house.

Let's put aside for a moment the fact that at that age I could get my tiny hands on nails. In fact, it might have been something else and not nails at all. It's my story, and that's how I remember it. I had small metallic objects and I was determined to put them in the socket.

It's important to remember, this was the late '70s. The concept of baby proofing your house hadn't exactly swept the parenting nation. I think there might have been a baby gate, but beyond that, the house was a real life game of Pitfall.

(as an aside, I will also tell you, when I was a bit older, we're talking 6 or 7 years old, I sat in the front seat of my mom's car wherever we went. And when I say I "sat," I mean I stood on the seat, no seat belt. How the hell else could I see over the dashboard?)

Back to our story. In a case of fortunate timing, my papa happened to see what I was doing. Quickly putting two and two together and coming to the conclusion that his only son was about to do a Benjamin Franklin, my pop did what any loving father would...yanked me away from the wall and gave me a spanking.

This wasn't the first or last time I caught a beating. Most of the time I deserved it (I'll tell you someday about the time I took a whiz on the tree in the front yard...in broad daylight). This time however, looking back, I am going to say it probably wasn't something that should have ended up with my rear end on fire.

Times have changed. It's now the responsibility of the parent to cover up for the shortcomings of a toddler's instinct. We no longer believe in survival of the fittest or the Darwinian law of natural selection when it comes to our offspring. So, long story short, we've begun the process to "child proof" the new house.

I trust, given the blood that will flow through your veins, that you will find new and exciting ways in which to hurt yourself in our bubble-wrapped home. And when you do, it will be with no small amount of pride and nostalgia that I whip your butt.