Today I made a bet with my child. The premise of the bet is unimportant. The outcome is key to my parenting philosophy of late: shaming and embarrassment makes kids tougher. I'll tell him to ask his therapist in 20 years how that worked for him.
Needless to say, I won the bet. And my child did the walk of shame to the mailbox to collect our mail--at the end of the cul de sac, wearing my shimmery mu mu (aka the Fabulous Gown), curtsying politely to the neighbors every few steps to calls of "Hey Elliot, why are you wearing a dress". It was epic. He pulled it off like a champ.
I filmed the whole thing on my phone. If I ever get that tech-savvy, I'll post it here. But in the meantime I'll just save it for that special occasion when we put together the clip reel to loop at the sign-in table at his wedding reception. I may also play his infamous scat solo, recorded while he was on the toilet, titled "Everybody Poops."
To his future bride, and his future therapist: you're welcome.
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