Let me preface this post by saying that I don’t have children.  My thoughts tend to be a bit bizarre so many people will thank me for not procreating.  Bullying is something that I went through many years ago and I think your child can learn from the mistakes my parents made (of course I blame my parents…it’s the only way I’ll get invited on Maury Povich)

1)  DON’T DRESS YOUR KID LIKE A DOUCHE:  My mother put me in Florsheim shoes, knit slacks and a sweater vest.  I didn’t look like I was going to school, I looked like I was going to a job interview.  She slicked my hair back like I was a member of “The Outsiders.”  The only thing she didn’t do is put a sign on my back that said”  Please pull my underwear deeply into my butt crack and stick my head in the school toilet.”

2) PEPPER SPRAY:  Tasers weren’t around when Jim Adams would punch me in the face on a weekly basis.  There was no reason for the assault other than I wore braces and I would bleed more profusely.  He even did it after asking to borrow ten cents to buy a Nutty Buddy.  “Thanks for the dime…take this!!!!”  Pepper Spray is the great equalizer.  If you can hold down a button you can be the bigger man.  Just make sure you get a note from a child psychologist saying its okay.

3)  KEEP YOUR KID OUT OF BAND:  My mother made me play the trumpet starting in the second grade.  I would have to carry my instrument to and from school every day.  Its one thing to bring your football helmet and shoulder pads on the bus as opposed to the kid struggling to pull his oboe through the school bus door.  You won’t get relief in high school when ya join the marching band.  I wore white bucks, had a goofy white hat with a green plume, and I would dance on the football field with 120 other nerds to songs like “Ease on Down the Road.”  Just writing this I wanna find a time machine, go back to 1982, and kick my OWN ass.

You may find my suggestions a bit outlandish but what do you expect from a kid that had his mother write his social security number on the waistband of his underwear with a sharpie when I left home for my first year of college.  No one stole my underwear but the Asian kid on my floor took my identity.

Have a great weekend!