You know what just seems wrong to me? When I'm in the kitchen cooking and my family is right next door in the TV room watching a cooking show. Does that seem right? No! "Hey!" I shout out, trying to budge them, "Come on in here and experience the real thing!"
But what fun would that be compared to Emeril and Paula Dean and Iron Chef? Never mind that I'm the one making the real food, the edible, three-dimensional food that we are actually going to eat!
I feel the same way about those fakey, screamy child-birth scenes that show up all over the place on television. Who are they kidding? Child-birth can't be acted out! I finally told my sons that I could not stand to hear one more fake TV birth until they had taken the time to read the real life accounts that I had written after each of them was born. My older son was willing to do just that, bravely confronting every gory detail; but the younger one is still stalling. I'll give him a couple more years.
In the meantime, he walked in the other day after a very early morning football practice, and I asked, "How was your workout?"
Son: Imagine the hardest thing you've ever done.
Mom: Childbirth?
Son: Harder than that.
Mom: Yeah, right! Okay, I know going to the weight room for two hours at the break of day is tough, but harder than childbirth? I don't think so!
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