Every Parent's Dirty Little Secret

There's a dirty little secret every parent knows but none will discuss: They all, at some point, get a kiss from their toddler while the kid's nose is leaking. I call this a Snot Sandwich. And, no matter how frantically you scrub your lips, you're doomed to get the kid's cold.

Luckily, I've found a solution:
My 3-year-old Johnny gave me a Snot Sandwich the other day. I had to digest this hoagie right as I was leaving for work--at a time when Johnny suffers separation anxiety. I struggled with this, like many young parents, but have found a solution for that, too.

I say, "Daddy's going to work to earn money to buy milk, videos and toys for YOU." Invariably, Johnny immediately ceases crying and cheerfully says, "OK, bye-bye." Then he skips away to his toys or the pool.

Every parent at some point thinks, "OK, kid, wait until YOU have children!" But this can be a dangerous thought. Recently, my 4-year-old daughter Belle walked up to me with her stuffed-Minnie Mouse under her shirt.

"Hey Dad? I'm having a baby in 5 minutes." A second later she said, "Ding, here's my baby. I'll call her Minnie."

Hey! Don't judge. It takes a village to raise a stuffed animal.

At least Belle did the right thing and got "married" the same day. I didn't even have to prompt her! She dressed in her mommy's skirt and a T-shirt. When asked who she was marrying, she said: "Myself." Hey, she's an independent woman. As Beyonce would say, "I depend on me."

Plus, Belle is already domesticated. She loves using the toilet brush to scrub toilets. She said, "I want to scrub toilets every day." Any takers out there? I wonder if she could pay her way through college...

Or maybe she could be a professional windsock:

Luckily, Belle's career options are open because she is pretty philosophical for a preschooler. For example, while preparing for bed at our house she said, "Let's clean up our toys. That's so novel."

My son has much more basic ideas at his age. For example, he was recently playing with his sister's dolls. He laid down next to them and declared, "Daddy, I want to sleep with AAAALLLLL the princesses!"

Belle decided she was going to give me a prince's haircut (which tells you something about her thoughts on my current hair style). "We're playing haircut, Daddy," she said, using two fingers as pretend scissors--first on my hair, then on my ears, nose and throat. Who knew I had a hairy throat? I thought my throat only felt hairy due to the cold I acquired from the Snot Sandwich.

I'm comforted by Nietzsche, who said, "He who has a 'why to live' can bear almost any 'how.'"

I think most parents immediately realize their kids are their why--but few, including me, realize before they become parents how much their progeny will one day become their how.

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