The Children of the Left

Buduran One of the joys and rewards of parenthood is being tasked with molding young lives and minds into kind, honorable, and respectful citizens who keep their fingers out of their noses at the Diner on Springfield Avenue. (This is why we can’t go to nice restaurants.)

But for our trans-inter-ultra-mega-racial adoptive family, it is an even greater joy to mold our children into bleeding heart, leftist, liberal, politically correct, Obama-lovin’ Americans. (You were right Anita Bryant. We do indoctrinate them.)

What this means is that instead of playing Cops ‘n’ Robbers, (Cowboys ‘n’ Indigenous Peoples just doesn’t have the right ring to it) or White Hats ‘n’ Black Hats (or, as I played as a child, Starlet and Talent Agent – but that’s a story for another day and another beverage), they play Democrats ‘n’ Republicans. Anybody wanna take a wild stab at who the bad guys are? I’ll give you a hint: Yes.

In our house, if one of the boys so much as mentions the word “girl,” the other triumphantly attacks his brother with ear-piercing cries of “SEXISM!!” (On the other hand, this enlightened attitude did nothing to quash my younger son’s insistence on hiding his copy of Pinkalicious whenever his friends came to visit, but there are some forces too powerful even for two proud homosexual dads to overcome.) And then there was the day when my eldest, then in third grade, returned home crestfallen at having learned that Pluto was no longer classified as a planet, and declared, resoundingly, “That’s racist!” We gently explained to him that the slight was, at best, planetist, but he was not to be consoled.

Photo Credit: Nasa

Here is a list of words we cannot say in our home: Retarded. Hispanic. Gay (if preceded by “that’s so”). Black. By contrast, however, it would appear that motherfucker, bitch, asshole and dickhead are totally on the table.

Also, apparently, if you should happen to critique, no matter how diplomatically, someone’s hair, shoes, speech patterns, dietary habits or aptitude at the intricate art of Minecraft, you are verbally pummeled with indignant accusations of “bullying.”

But the incident that will forever cement our places in the Socialist School of Parenting Fame was that evening our boys were having one of those no-holds-barred, ultimate smackdown insult fests. This one went something like this:

ARROGANT OLDER CHILD: You’re an idiot!
PERSECUTED YOUNGER CHILD: Well, you’re a moron!
ARROGANT OLDER CHILD: Well, you’re stupid!
PERSECUTED YOUNGER CHILD: Well, you’re a dumbass!
ARROGANT OLDER CHILD: Well, you suck!
PERSECUTED YOUNGER CHILD: Well, you donated to Mitt Romney and Christ Christie!!!

Aaaand we have a winnah!! Our work here is done.