10 Reasons I’m Thankful They’re Your Kids, Not Mine

It's November, which means it’s time for us to start using words like thankfulness and gratitude while we look for fridge space to hang up another set of red and yellow and orange turkeys made from the shape of our kids’ hands. Just like the pilgrims once did. 

So I’m spending the month trying to find things to be thankful for, and this week I’ve come up with a good one: I’m thankful they’re your kids, not mine. Here’s why.


1. Your kids are germ-distributing factories. Here’s a flu-season tip, moms and dads: there is a correct way to expel potentially polluted air from your mouth, and your kids should know it by now. Cough or sneeze into the crook of your arm. Spray your millions of bacteria onto your own skin and not ours. Thanks.

2. Your kids are destroyers of worlds. In some kids’ presence, it only takes three minutes for a clean room to turn into kiddie Chernobyl. Which is fine. They’re children, after all. But there’s this new thing called “picking up after yourself.” It’s the “leave no trace” of the child-rearing world. How about we try it sometime, 'kay?

3. Your kids are junk-bellies. It’s 2013. We have the Food Pyramid and everything. Maybe try introducing your offspring to something other than pizza or fast food or, God forbid, Beanie Weenies. Nothing worse than a kid who comes into your house begging for a snack only to turn up their noses when you don’t offer the right brand of sugary glurge.

4. Your kids are impolite crapweasels. You know that thing where a kid invites himself over to your house to play after school or spend the night? Not cool. Also not cool: asking for stuff without so much as a “please” or a “thank you.”

5. Your kids are bathroom-incompetent. If you are old enough to use the bathroom like a big boy, then you are old enough to aim. Or if not, to clean up after you miss the mark. If you’re going to leave the bathroom looking like a lemonade fight just went down, then go pee at your own house, kid.

6. Your kids are bad influences. If I have to reprogram my kids after your kids leave my house, then let’s just say they may not be coming back over anytime soon. Because I hate making statements like, “I don’t care what she does, we don’t throw our dog” or “I’m sorry, but at our house we don’t perform flips off the couch.”

7. Your kids are snotty jerks. Laughter when a kid’s Lego tower gets knocked down. Mockery when a kid can’t color perfectly within the lines. Making another kid feel bad if he doesn’t play the latest violent videogame or if she lacks the fashion trend. I once knew a girl who constantly asked her friends what grade they got on a test just so she could one-up them by announcing her own grade. Hell no.

8. Your kids are needy. Entertain yourself, kid. When you come over to my house for playtime, you’re expected to, you know, play. It’s not my job to find things for you to do. To quote Dionne Warwick: that’s what friends are for.

9. Your kids are inappropriate conversationalists. I’m not talking about discussions of burps, boobies, or poop. I’m talking about kids who like to educate other children about murders, bombings, school shootings, kidnappings, zombie outbreaks, and other horrible things they may have heard about. My kids’ brains find enough terrible things to have nightmares about. They don’t need your help.

10. Your kids remind me of my own kids. Because my kids do all this stuff, too. Obviously. But, see, here’s the deal: I love my kids. Yours I could give or take.


Image via Scary Mommy

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