Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan Page B

unnecessary. A
fairy
that brings you
money
for your
teeth
? Who started that one? And why do we keep it going? We are totally pressured into telling this lie because we are terrified that if we are the only
honest
parents who say, “Look, you lost a tooth. Congratulations. Enjoy looking like a hillbilly. Here’s a dollar,” we might be unconsciously depriving our children of some yet unknown butreally important stage of development, and we won’t find out until it’s too late and we find a dead hamster in their backpack.
    By the way, could we all agree on the cash value of a tooth? I remember finding a shiny quarter under my pillow for my first tooth and being excited that I could buy a candy bar. I went to school for finance. I understand basic economics. When Marre lost her first tooth, I adjusted for inflation. According to my calculations, one dollar would be perfect. Marre was thrilled in the morning when she lifted her pillow to see George Washington frowning up at her. However, when she returned from school that afternoon, she was devastated. What had happened? Through her tears Marre choked out, “The Tooth Fairy hates my tooth! Why did Nellie get
twenty dollars
for her tooth!?” Because Nellie’s parents didn’t have change, that’s why. Somehow we all get the memo that you can no longer put new babies to sleep on their stomach, but no one can agree on the value of a tooth? Come on, people.
    Eventually, children start questioning these ridiculous lies. Marre, now eight, has begun to wonder how Santa can reach every house in the world by flying reindeer. I suppose soon Marre will start lying to Jeannie and me about believing in Santa a couple of years after she stops. That’s what I did. I didn’t want to ruin it for my parents, and also I didn’t want to risk dissuading them from getting me presents.
    I’m not proud of the lies I tell my children. Some are truly selfish and for the wrong reason. “Honey, you wouldn’t want a bite of Daddy’s cheeseburger. It’s spicy.” I don’t feel guilty when I deny eating my kids’ after-school snacks. I feel guilty telling them that their mom did. Of course, no parent sets out to lieto his or her children. I never did. Then again, I never thought I would let my three-year-old watch TV or chew tobacco. Sometimes we have to lie about stuff to scare them out of hurting themselves. “Don’t play with firecrackers. My friend blew his hand off with a firecracker.” In a few years they’ll learn that
everyone’s
father had a friend who blew his hand off with a firecracker. We will be revealed as the liars we are, and to retaliate against our hypocrisy, our children will grow up and lie to their children.
    Every parent lies to their kid and that is a fact. We don’t want to, but we do. The biggest lie we usually tell is when we threaten our children not to lie. “Don’t lie or I’ll tell Santa.”

    “Why isn’t this the same guy from the mall?” —Marre, age six

A Critical Analysis of Children’s Literature
    Everyone knows you are supposed to read to young children. Well, that’s what I hear when I have my kids watch
Sesame Street
so I can waste time on the Internet. “Read to your children.” Interestingly enough, when you hear “Read to your children” on
Sesame Street
, they never say, “Did you hear me? Do not watch
Sesame Street
! Turn off the TV and read that kid a book!” We know we are supposed to read to our kids—what they don’t tell us is that we will be reading the same books over and over and over again. Around the tenth time reading some of these books to your kids, you begin to develop some really strong opinions and questions about them.
        •  
The Very Hungry Caterpillar:
I’m sure I’m not the only one who is concerned that maybe the main character has an eating disorder. Hey, I identify.
        •  
Five Little Monkeys:
I’d think that after the second little monkey jumped off the bed and bumped its head,