No pears, please.

Sometimes I wonder if I'd rather have a jock or a geek for a son. Looking at how things are going, I'd settle on my son being a slacker. And my daughter would be a spoilt princess, but not to Sweet Sixteen extremes.

I'd spoil my children senseless...within my resources, of course. And I suppose that I'd only spoil them if there was any leftover money from spoiling myself. I'd most probably leave it to the missus to do the disciplining...because discipline is boring. It's tiring, it's tedious, and sooner or later, your children are bound to rebel and just become more obnoxious. Why fight the inevitable?

From my own experiences, my parents didn't use me enough for the little things. Luckily, I'm not so selfless. My kids will scratch my back constantly. They'll fetch the papers for me at such a frequent rate that their heads will spin. They will do the dishes. They will obey me. In return for their submission (or whatever we can get out of it), there'll be Barbies and Hot Wheels aplenty...in fact, I suspect that there'll be an instance whereby Mattel will send Thank You letters to my household.

The future beckons. It's shiny, bright and saccharine.

All bets are on that somehow, in my uncanny, unrelenting way, I ruin it.