The despicable practice of one-upping kids’ accomplishment

When was the last time you went to a store and saw a man crawling through the aisles? Or how many middle-aged men do you suspect are still wearing diapers?

I’m asking because parenting can be exhausting. But it is even more exhausting when other parents try to compete on the milestones their kids accomplish. This practice of one-upping other parents is absolutely unnecessary since our kids will naturally hit milestones without us interfering.

I had a friend who had a son a few weeks after my first daughter was born. I couldn’t share anything with him about her without an attempt from him to turn the conversation into a pissing match.

If I said, “It seems like my daughter’s gums are hurting; maybe her first tooth is coming in.”

He would respond, “My boy’s teeth all came in, including his wisdom teeth. He eats corn now like nobody’s business. He eats corn harder than a woodchuck could chuck wood.”

If I said, “I’m sleeping under my bed so my snoring doesn’t wake up my daughter, who is sleeping next to us in her bassinet. Maybe it’s time to sleep train her.”

He would respond, “My boy has been sleeping on his own for a really long time. As a matter of fact, he just came back from a three-day solo camping trip where he hunted for squirrels, dressed them, and ate them.”

If I said, “My daughter learned to do the sign for eating, and it’s adorable.”

He would respond, “My boy learned all the words in the American Sign Language. He also knows French and German. And, obviously, English. Duh! English is his mother tongue, which he has already mastered by writing several plays on it.”

So I killed him!

It had to be done. Parents like that are way too annoying to let them exist.

I did it, and then I buried him in the woods.

You don’t need to call me a hero. But do it if you must. I was just doing my civic duty. I suspect you would do the same for me as well.

So, you are welcome.

Why do we worry so much about developmental milestones?

Take me and my milestones as an example. I’ve hit them all. Granted, my wife still cuts my steak into smaller pieces so I can chew them. I avoid grapes because of the choking hazards. And every now and then, I wake up in a pool of my own pee.

But after all, isn’t that what life is all about, living long enough until you can’t control your bowels?