But look! There is my name, in the forthcoming "Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood, Volume 1."
(And so, Mr. Kamikaze, the next time you have some particular critique to throw out, keep in mind that I am now a published authority in a parenting manual.)
Don't look so surprised. I am full of inspired parenting techniques. And so I will take your questions now.
Q: From where does the inspiration for your parenting innovations come?
SK: I cannot say, really. Sometimes they just hit me out of the blue. Like when my son was a toddler and he kept peeing inside this giant refrigerator box we were using as a playhouse. And it was really starting to reek in there. So I had the idea that the next time he misbehaved I would threaten to put the box out on the curb. And then he did. So I did. And then the garbage men came and took it away before I could take pity on him and change my mind. And it hit me: Carry out your threats and your children will respect you. Also, the house will smell better. That worked for a while.
Q: And then?
SK: Somewhere along the way, out of the frustration that comes from never, ever being able to take a shower without interruption, I began to craft increasingly baroque, extravagant threats. Rococo almost. Time-outs became abandonment at a local orphanage. Instead of threatening to cut television time short, I threatened to disconnect the television, carry it to my car and drive it to the nearest Goodwill trailer. It comes from being a creative-type person. Unfortunately, I tend to overestimate my ability to carry such things out.
Q: It sounds as if you do not know what you are doing at all.
SK: But I do. I know that I am doing it exactly wrong. That is the source of all true innovation. With each spectacular parenting failure comes reinvention. And then more failure. And more reinvention. That is the stuff that parenting manuals are made of, I believe.