In Which I Give Advice

Oh, I promised I wouldn't.  There's nothing quite so smarmily irritating as the veteran parent who starts sentences with: "Just remember...."  "All you have to do is..." "When Norbert/Melchizedek/Hottentot was young..."

But one of the more dispiriting side effects of progeny is one's sudden, irresistible urge to enlighten others as to the particulars of your sagacity.  So here.  In the event that you are thinking about making the long waddle into parenthood, I hereby dispense my three hard-earned pearls of wisdom:

1) Some of it will be different than you thought.  Which particular parts will be different than you thought will also be different than you thought.  Basically, no one has any idea what is going on, and it's probably time to eat.

2) Accept any and all offers of free food.  Actually you should do this all the time, and not only after you undertake breeding.  Why wouldn't you accept free food?  It's free.  And it's food!  What is wrong with you? 

3) Do not, under any circumstances, read "We Need to Talk About Kevin" during the first two weeks of parenthood.  Also don't read it during weeks four through ten of parenthood, during pregnancy, or really any other time you might happen to be around a child.  Probably the only safe time to read this book is after you make the decision never to allow any immature human to come within in a twenty food radius of yourself and you hit the Internet to purchase a twenty-foot-long child-warding-off pole in accordance with this purpose.  In which case "We Need to Talk About Kevin" is a fabulous read and will make you feel safe and righteous and smug and relieved you have a pole and you should plow through the book now -right now!- while noshing on free food.