Isn't it weird how having kids puts you in some odd situations?
Situations you wouldn't be in if it weren't for the kids?
How you end up talking to people you wouldn't normally talk to, how you end up in weird situations you wouldn't be in, if it weren't for the fact you had some tiny little expectations looking up to you, all round-eyed and innocent-like, expecting the very best of you?
It's so mad that in order to fulfil things from a kid's perspective, in it's complete black-and-white form, that we end up putting ourselves into places that ordinarily we would be so outraged by, that we would simply walk away from.
But because we have little monitors, little consciences, little Jiminy Crickets watching our every move, simply just wanting the goodness from a situation, we pull ourselves to the side, have a word and draw deep breaths in order to get through it for their sakes.
Life is weird.
People are weird.
Kids are innocent. We try our best to protect that.
And that is why we do some really weird and stressy things in order to appear good in their eyes.
I often wonder at what point do we break the facade of perfection? At what point do we admit our fatal flaws, our likes and dislikes despite circumstance, our moral compass that determines action and inaction?
At what point do we admit that we cannot tolerate, cannot be so good, cannot ignore what we need to expose?
At what point do we let them in on the secrets of adulthood?
And are we letting them into the fold by divulging, or are we corrupting an innocent soul?
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