New Nightmare

There are a few things you should never tell a 3-year-old. Namely, when I was younger I jumped out of a plane. God bless my husband, he told Mason and Cooper about his skydiving experience in about this many words. I was unaware of his storytelling session until about three days ago.

I've heard about nothing else from Mason since.

Mason: Daddy jumped outta a plan when hes was little.

Mommy: He did? Actually I think he was like 28.

Mason: He was little and he didn't even get blooded.

Mommy: I don't know about that. He has a hurt back.

Mason: Oh yeah, right.

Cooper: (!) Oh that's why he's always asking us to rub his back and stuff. (For the record, I don't think I've ever heard my husband ask for a back rub, ever.)

As this ongoing concern from Mason has played out and he's discussed the event with me many times over the past few days I've realized a new nightmare. It's unsettling imaging your children doing mildly dangerous stuff. It's hard not to tell them they should absolutely not do the same thing. I've had to steer the conversation in other directions.

Mason: Mommy when can I jumped out of the plane.

Mommy: When you are 21, make that 28. I think your father was 28 when he did that. And he did NOT have a wife and kids. You can't do it if you are married. AND you have to pay for it with your own money. It's really expensive. That's all I'm saying.

Mason: Oh yeah, right.

In conclusion -- and I'm mostly speaking to the highly influential people in my children's lives -- please do not tell them about "cool" stuff you did when you were younger. I am not interested in sending my children off to war, out of an airplane, or onto a bull (even if it is for 8 seconds). Zip. It.