Tyler H is a guest blogger and father to Emi. The Three BayBChicks have asked him to shed light on a Dad’s point of view under the stern supervision of his loving wife. His writing has been said to be a cross between Stephen Colbert and Hemingway. (Tyler is the one who said this.) If you have a question for Ask A Dad feel free to submit it in the comments section. Please keep in mind that you may receive a response from Tyler only if it inspires a clever response. And please, no jeering.
Yesterday, my hyper-evolved one-year-old prodigy child, Emi, posed a rather cute question to me. (She’s in the 90th percentile in weight for children her age.) Anyway, I was sitting on the couch reading an article from the only periodical I subscribe to, Genius Elitist Weekly, and Emi skipped over to me humming some tune from the opera "Carmen". She leaned against my knee like a charming cowboy against a picket fence and asked, “Dad, why do adults talk to me in a high-pitched voice? Are the ears of children my age underdeveloped and incapable of hearing lower frequency sound waves?”
I had to laugh because I thought this was an adorably naive question. I thought for a moment, taking the time to phrase my response in such a way that her young ears could understand. And by the way, everything I said to her I said with a high-pitched voice. So, with an exaggerated high-pitched voice, I replied, “Emi, you’re green with youth and there’s just some information your inexperienced mind won’t be able to comprehend. You see, there’s a little something you’re unfamiliar with and it’s called tradition, m-kay. And sometimes grown-ups do things for no other reason than to follow the traditions of our parents, like maintaining a visible library of books we don’t intend to read a second time…or a first time. But these “traditions” (I made the air quotes because I always make air quotes when I emphasize a word as opposed to highlighting something metaphorical or ironic, which is my own personal tradition I expect Emi to carry on) are vital to our existence. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
Emi grimaced and smugly replied, “Not really.”
I told her that I didn’t appreciate her tone and that it was time for bed. She disagreed and I exerted my parental authority, successfully overruling her protest.
Kids say the damnedest things.