Why do parents worry about their kids?

I know this is a stupid question. Because they’re parents. Because they brought them to life, and because their kids are the only ones in their lives who are more important than themselves. The answer seems obvious.

But as a child, and as a teenager who has no idea what parenting is about, I don’t understand sometimes.

Why do parents make you come home early? Because it’s dangerous in the night, and they want their kids to be safe. I know this. But what if the parent is depriving the child’s bonding time with his or her friends by restricting the time? What if the child faces sheer embarrassment because of his or her parents?

I’m not saying that parents shouldn’t worry. No. I’m trying to understand, because I hate myself for getting irritated every time my parents worry about me. There’s something about being mad at your parents–you can’t blame them, because you just KNOW in your guts that you’re going to be just like them when you become a parent.

I guess this is one of those things that will only make sense once I have my own kids. Who knows, I might be the strictest parent in the world. Yesterday, when I was telling my mom how she was too strict sometimes, she told me, “You only have 2 months until you leave this house for college. You only have 2 months to listen to what we say. You only have 2 months where somebody will actually care for you, worry about you. At least bear with us for the next 60 days!” I almost cried when I heard this. I realized just how selfish I had been for telling her not to be worried about me, when it was actually a privilege I would long to have in the next few months. Worrying is a sign of love. I’m trying so hard to understand this.

Put your happy pants on and I’ll see you later,



Wise Words of a 7-Year-Old


“What’s 1+1?”

A 7-year-old came up to me one day during work and asked this to me. Without thinking, I bluntly answered, “2.”


Here comes the Big Question, I thought, as I stopped what I was doing and faced him.

“Here’s 1,” I said, as I put one finger up, “and here’s another 1.” I had two index fingers sticking up in front of this boy’s face. “When you stick them together…” I positioned my two index fingers next to each other. “You get a 2.”

I could feel the boy’s eyes following every movement of my hands. “But that’s an 11.”

I looked at my two index fingers and felt as if I was caught red-handed. That did look like an 11.

I tried again. “No, there are 2 index fingers here, see?”


“Because you learn this in math class, don’t you? We have to accept what we learn at school because they’re thought to be the truth in this world.” This kid was messing me up.

“But if you can’t explain the reason to an answer, then it can’t be true!” The 7-year-old gave me a goofy grin and said, “I win.”

And that was true–even I could explain the reason for that. I could not explain the world’s easiest math question, and a 7-year-old had crushed me by telling me that 2 didn’t deserve to be the answer of 1+1 unless I could tell him why. I had been defeated.

This is what it’s like to work with kids. They have mind blowing perspectives that we can’t come up with, and it’s impossible not to have fun with them.

Have you been told something by a kid that took you by surprise? Leave them in the comments below! 🙂

Put your happy pants on and I’ll see you later,