Daycare, You're Trippin'

When you're a working parent, you have no choice but to send your kids to some form of daycare. And try as you might to find a place that will raise your children the same way you would, it's not possible.

We're only slightly crazy, anal parents, but not so much so that we're certain if our kids aren't fed organic, farm-raised chicken or served hormone-free soy milk for every single meal they'll die immediately. We realize they will be just fine if they're allowed to stay up past their nap times or have an extra helping of dessert once in a while.

That's why, for the most part, we're OK with the shenanigans that go on at their daycare. They are beyond happy there, these people are teaching them how to read at age 2, and they are learning invaluable social skills. So what if they're fed Cheetos and pop on occasion?

Despite our easy-going nature, however, there are just some things we can't get behind. Like letting our kids play with lighters for five minutes or until they are able to make those suckers burn. And before you wonder where I'm going with this embellished scenario, let me assure you - no embellishment here.

We received - actually RECEIVED - a parent release form requesting our permission to let our children participate in a "Child Restraint Surrogate Lighter Evaluation" as required by the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission. Part of that letter reads:

The tester will ask the children to try to make the signal with their surrogate lighter. If the children are not able to make the signal in five minutes, the tester will use each of their surrogate lighters one time to demonstrate. The tester will ask the children to try again for five more minutes.... After the test, the tester talks to the children and asks them to promise not to touch real lighters.


Well, I suppose as long as they PROMISE not to ever touch a real lighter, it's OK. Why not let them test the safety latch on hand guns while we're at it? Or better yet - MACHETES. Yeah. My kids aren't doing that.


Full-time teacher, mommy, and snark. I have humor in my handbag. And tampons.

Catharsis: Parenting and stuff. With mediocrity.


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