How to Raise a Hick in L.A.

February 14th, 2009

Not saying we DO all of these things, but … OK, we do.


Let her wear the same outfit for up to 48 hours.


Make sure she never appears in public with more than one sock on. When every third person urgently alerts you to the missing sock, reply, “Oh. Yeah, she always takes those things off.”


Play her plenty of Dwight Yoakam, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Trisha Yearwood, George Straight, Pam Tillis and Crystal Gayle. Enough so she learns the lyrics by preschool.


Give her baths in the two-sided kitchen sink. When she poops, just move her to the other side of the sink. (I know some of you are horrified right now and making a note to never step foot in our kitchen again. Oh ye who have not had children. Poop in the sink = poop I can bleach away, versus poop on things-ruined-by-poop.)


Feed her plenty of beans. Babies love them some beans.


When you need to divert her attention away from something dangerous or valuable, grab a different, desirable nearby object and toss it. Say to the kid, “You want it? Fetch-it.”


If she doesn’t like to have her face wiped off, just don’t wipe it off. If around her mouth and nose and in her hair there is crusty breakfast cereal mush, sticky dried juice from lunch, dinner’s beans, or all three, just leave them there.


When she crawls by you with a used tea-bag in one hand and an empty yogurt cup in the other, both clearly pilfered from the kitchen trash, do not confiscate these items. Rather, say to her, “I see you got yourself some new toys there.”


When food falls on the floor, the correct response is this: “Ah, the kid can still eat that. Gotta build up her immune system!”


Pants are optional.