Forget everything you ever knew about me. And, if you didn't know me before (or rather, if you had somehow actually known me once long before), get to know the new "me".
George Kovats: drawer of things, friend to the porcupines, drinker of beer, healer of the leppers,... father.
Yes, my wife Anna has produced a child; or, she is "with child". And so, the Jakubowski / Kovats empire grows, bringing honey liquor and dry wit to all in it's path.
I know, this is somewhat anti-climactic in light of the starring triumphs of Katie Holmes and Brooke Shields: two crazy
hollywood primadonna martyrs willing to sacrifice an eventual tummy-tuck for 9 months of Enquirer coverage. Still, it's a joyous occasion for the whole family. But before rejoice can echo throughout, I have to first state the conditions and plans my son(s) and/or daughter(s) must follow through to earn the name Kovats, and all the non-expired Jiffy Lube coupons that entitles them to.
They must find me extremely funny.
This will be easy at first. I'm sure a dangling key chain will suffice for a couple of years, but once they can grasp complex shapes, I'll need their full appreciation of my complex and obscure humor. If they don't get my Oscar Wilde quips and references to Henry VIII, we'll have issues.
They must be a "man's man", or conversely, a "woman's woman"
Nothing queer or quasi-normal here - just everything the Good Lord and Jerry Fallwell intended. And no metrosexuals either. You survive like your father: on one bar of Lava soap. Nothing fruify for my children like moisturizer, exfoliating cream, hair spray, deoderant, feminine products or toilet paper.
Mandatory Military Service
My children will earn their citizenship! Through grueling, boring, and highly anecdote-worthy service to our Uncle Sam. And, not to be totally unfair, if my children are fiercely against becoming a part of our Armed Forces and captivated with the civilian lifestyle, they can join the Air Force. Either way, it will be at least 4 years of their life they can talk about in bars for endless years to come.
They will not become a podiatrist. Period. I had a neighbor one time - the man collected pictures of hands cut out from magazines. He was a former podiatrist... or a magazine editor. I could never remember. Either way, it was friggin' creepy, so no Podiatrists in the family.Magazine editors are negotiable.
I will put the "fear of God" in them
My father enjoyed making us scared witless when we interupted "Wheel of Fortune" during recliner time. So, in keeping with tradition, I've been mentally practicing the "fear of God" technique for years now. The minute my children begin to emulate a TV child star or listen to Clay Aiken, that's when the yelling begins. It's a lot like how you're told to scare off black bears in the forest - stand really tall with your arms waving above your head and yell gutteral sounds. It'll will send my children into a panicky frenzy, make them realize the error of their ways, and potentially show them how to act in a mosh pit.
No Barney I know, more 3 year olds these days are watching The Family Guy than Barney, but that smug purple bastard is still waiting to be knocked down a peg if you ask me.
No Family Guy either I've Tivo'ed almost every episode that has aired, and I gotta tell ya, they're not missing much. Plus, I don't think babies with british thespian accents are cute or funny,and I'll have none of that crap in my house. At leat not anymore, now that I've seen every episode.
I know - I'm a fan of lists, so I'll cut it short here. I'm thrilled about the prospect of having a baby, but like all life events, I'm going to downplay it out of respect for those who have braved these events before me.
I will say I have a lot of pent up parental hostility from watching Sally Jessie Rapheal reruns and whiny WB teen shows, and I vow to raise a grounded, respectful child that understands this world doesn't owe them jack. I marvel at parents that let their children strut around without any sense of consequences or unforgiving reality. Of course, I jest above - my son or daughter can be a gay podiatrist that doesn't understand my humor - but this part is real. The second goal of every parent, next to providing all life-giving necessities, is to prepare their children for the real world. And, in the real world, you don't get toys and gifts for bad behavior.
So, to my future offspring, you've been warned. If you so much as smell a whippit or start considering Scientology as a viable lifestyle, be prepared for flailing arms and boisterous howling. It was good enough for me, and it'll be good enough for you.
