Children are the future. That's what they say.
Of course, nothing exists in the future. Things only exist now. But let's not fuss.
When children are first born, we value them over and above everything. They are delicate, fragile and need to be taken care of.
So now you can't smoke in the delivery room, as my mom did when I was born. Is that whooping cough or smoker's cough? They didn't know.
When children are about 1-2, we drown them in educational paraphernalia like flash cards, The Teletubbies and Baby Einstein.
Einstein had a hugenormous imagination, but I doubt he ever thought one-year-old children would be watching videos of him and his famous equation, E=MC2.
This equation is quite beautiful. Almost as beautiful as our precious children. If you don't know already, the equation states that the amount of energy in an object is equal to its mass multiplied by the speed of light squared.
I remember the first time my daughter learned this equation because it coincided with the first time she decided to convert all of the energy in her body into a diarrhea poop on the floor. And just when we got her out of diapers.
As for the Teletubbies, well, I think Charles Manson, Paul Bernardo and Jeffrey Dahmer were all raised ingesting these creepy creatures.
As they get older, our children learn to transport themselves via bike. But when they first get on a bike, reaching speeds of maybe .0025 kph, having training wheels and us holding them, we still make very sure to secure their heads with helmets and knees/elbows with pads.
Obviously, we value these children very much. We will go to any length to protect them. Aliens watching us would conclude that the sole function of parents is to swath their children in comfort and safety.
But then, it seems, we take a break from caring.
From the age of about 5 to 18, what do we do? We pile them by the thousands into school buses. And not a safety piece of equipment in sight.
Seat belts? Grab a kid's hair and hope they have strong follicles.
Do you remember those school bus seats? I believe maxi-pads are nicer to sit on.
The rest is hard, bone-crushing metal. Travelling upwards of 100 kph. Will E=MC2 help them just before they slam into that tree?
When that bus does hit the tree, your precious children might as well be pennies freed from your jean pockets in the dryer. Loud and painful.
Probably more like kleenex. You know how it gets spread apart, torn up and bundled into little hard balls of so much flesh.
It's like we're saying, "Okay, children, we've taken you this far, and now it's up to you. You've been pretty damn comfortable up to now. What, you thought it would last forever?".
When they turn 18, we say, "Whew. Congratulations, kids. You've proved yourselves worthy adults. And now you get your safety equipment back. That's right, comfy seats, rear cameras, steel-belted tires, front airbags, side airbags, top airbags and please hand over airbags of money for all this".
Good luck, kids.
HELLOOOO NEWMAN: Laughter is your sixth sense
