decisions, first in a series
Every day my wife asks me how I will handle some hypothetical situation in regards to the baby. “What will you do if he cries all the time?” “What will you do if he's deaf?” “What will you do if he gets a tattoo?” It's enough to make me cry, put in ear plugs, and get a tattoo.
Today it was “Are you going to tell him about Santa?” Well… of course I will. Or, you know, we will, I assume. But then I started thinking about this. At some point, I'll have to really tell him about Santa. And then what? Suddenly I'm getting stressed out about a hypothetical conversation I'll have to have… what, 10 years from now? How long do kids believe in Santa*? I'll be working hard to make sure he grows up to be honest, and to trust us, and then WHAM, I've been lying to you for years! What do you think about that, champ?!? And I know this is a crazy thing to worry about, I'm pretty sure most kids don't resent their parents for the whole Santa fable thing. But somehow I'm sure mine will.
I think too much. I know. This is the kind of thing I suffer from.
* Sorry if I ruined everything for you. Just pretend you never read this.
(Oh, and Thanksgiving went just fine. The turkey probably could have been better, but all in all it was a big success. Although they did bring apple pie and not pumpkin, so I went out yesterday and got one for myself, to make it official. On another topic, I'll be in Boulder, CO on a business trip for most of this week, so don't expect much out of me. Not that you would.)