About once or twice a month, I’m reminded of my biggest parenting regret.  Actually, since I haven’t been a dad for even 365 days, this is probably my only regret (to date).  Last night we had spaghetti for dinner and I was reminded again: I taught my kids to slurp spaghetti.  I hadn’t even been a dad for a week when I did it.  How was I supposed to know that teaching your kids bad habits isn’t a good idea?  We had just met them and I was trying to bond with them…show them that they had a fun loving, cool dad.  I didn’t even do it on the sly; I got both of their attentions, put the end of the longest strand I could find in my moth, and made it disappear.  Little did I know that it would come back to haunt me every time we have spaghetti.

Now granted, they would have probably figured it out on their own, but at least we would have had a few slurp free meals.  Besides, isn’t that’s what grandfathers are for (sorry Dads, although I’m sure there’s still plenty you can teach them).

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