Normally this column is all about my terrible advice to you on child-rearing. Most people enjoy it or just avoid it but some of you seem intent on calling me out as being a terrible parent in spite of the fact that this column is called "Ill-Advised" for a reason. In fact, I recently got an email implying that I didn't even have a child. Which is ridiculous. I have a 7-year-old named Hailey that I stole so I could write this column in good faith. BECAUSE ETHICS ARE IMPORTANT TO ME.

Also, I stole her from heroin addicts so stop judging me. It took six months just to get her off the horse and she still complains that she has bugs under her skin.  

In short, I am like some kind of a goddamn saint. But in case you still think I'm lying, I have decided to share an hour in the life of my daughter with you.

YOU ARE WELCOME AMERICA. And Canada. And ... whoever else is here.

Let's begin:

Hailey is an only child, so she has a lot of playdates with cats. Especially Ferris Mewler because he's the smallest and least likely to rip her face off when she dresses him up for tea parties.

Today was a special tea party, celebrating the birth (and consequent death two hours later) of a new batch of sea monkeys and Ferris was dressed to the nines.

Hailey poured, and Ferris plotted his escape.

Then Ferris decided to pour. Unintentionally. Probably.

For a cat blessed with opposable thumbs you'd think he'd be better at this.

Hailey didn't seem to mind though. At least Ferris was acting more appropriate than the stuffed lemur who was already drunk.

But in the end, a good time was had by all.

Even Ferris: