Can I Share A Secret?

I plan on feeding my son french fries.

There i said it. It feels good to get this off my chest!

My kid will get to eat french fries, ice cream, donuts and candy. My kid will also get to stay up late with dad sometimes, and we will probably not have him staying active as often as he should be.

I am not going to be a perfect dad.

And I am not worried about it.

I really don't care.

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My parents were not perfect--they were better than perfect.

My parents fed my french fries. I used to mix my mustard and ketchup until it was an orange tint, then dip those little salty sticks and enjoy. I love french fries.

My parents also used to let me climb trees and ride my bike without a helmet. I fell down. I once bit my tongue after jumping out of a tree and got pretty bloodied up. My parents let me climb the tree again that week.

My parents were not perfect, they were better than perfect. When I cried, they were there. When I was hurt, my parents gave me the courage to get back up and try again. My parents taught me that the most important part of eating is not the nutritional value, but the people you share the meal with. My parents taught me that my actions have consequences--staying up late meant I would be tired the next day--but that I needed to learn to make those decisions.

My parents didn't do anything the way the books would tell me. We were different.
 
We were weird.

I want this for my son.

And so I refuse to be the by-the-book parent. I will do what my parents did for me--love me, encourage me, and empower me--so that my son can grow up to be a man.

And yes, I will show him how tasty french fries are when swirled in mustard and ketchup.