Other than during that golden period when they were old enough to play games and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer but hadn’t yet become evil teenagers, I don’t think I’m very good at parenting. When my kids were babies I felt unnecessary and useless, a feeling I have been reminded of most days since. That’s OK. We can’t be good at everything. I can read words backwards and upside down but I can never find my house keys. I am brilliant at dancing to the Cure’s The Lovecats on Dancing Stage MegaMix but terrible at DIY.
Don’t get me wrong: I love my children. I like hanging out with them socially as young adults because they are smart, funny and entertaining, but then they remember I am their dad, and everything is ruined as they ask me to do stuff then blame me for everything wrong in their lives.
