Embarrassing the kids

I don’t really remember my parents ever being a terrible embarrassment to me. They were always pretty cool and with it, well most of the time.
They were shameless tea-aholics and literally couldn’t go anywhere without a flask of tea and some biscuits in a sandwich bag. Looking back now, it’s kinda cute, but at the same time I remember the searing pain of embarrassment as they produced the flask in the cinema (I kid you not, it’s a wonder I turned out so well) or on a trip to the park.
Another source of embarrassment was Dad’s old red Ford Cortina that was as much use as a mode of transport as a washing machine. No matter where we went he always had to park it on a hill – the roll down gave him a hill start.
We can laugh now, but dear Lord I don’t think I’ll ever get over the shame of rolling past my friends outside school while Dad tried frantically – using the age-old method of thumping the steering wheel and cursing – to get the engine to kick in.
I realise I got off pretty easy. My friend’s Dad constantly wore a cowboy hat with wine corks on strings hanging from it. Another’s Dad was an Elvis impersonator (in his overweight, white sparkly jumpsuit era).
I thought back on my own, at times cringe worthy, childhood when I unintentionally embarrassed my oldest boy again this week.
Over the past few months I’ve been told not to show him physical affection in public – but am permitted to show affection in other ways such as monetary donations. I’m not to mess with his hair – just buy the hair gel and say no more.
Being a graphic designer I thought I’d fashion him and his brother some cool action hero pictures. I spent hours placing their faces over that of Ben10, Spiderman etc in various states of saving the world from destruction. I stuck them up on their bedroom walls and expected them to be delighted. Daniel showed his delight by ripping the pictures down and into tiny pieces, all the while shouting that they were stupid and his friends would laugh at him. I ended up apologising for any embarrassment caused and swore to him I would never do it again.
But I will do it again. I’m afraid that the child has to learn that embarrassing our kids is a right of passage for every parent. It’s payback for the pain of childbirth, the sleepless nights, the teething, the terrible twos. This is no one way street. What goes around comes around. And if there’s one strong personality flaw that I have it’s the inability to obey when people tell me I can’t do something.
So, from this day forward I will make it my mission to embarrass my kids and I strongly advise you to do the same. Embarrassing your kids toughens them up, builds character and prepares them for the big bad world. In short you’re doing them a favour.

Dress to impress
Go to town on this one. Dress like an historical figure and pick them up at school. I’m thinking the Queen’s turquoise twin set, wig and pearls – especially effective for dads – an alien, or indeed Napoleon Bonaparte. This method will be particularly embarrassing for teenagers, although aged seven and up will certainly be mortified also.

Dance like you mean it
Everyone’s Dad is an embarrassment on the dance floor. Even Justin’s Timberlake’s teenage kids will one day cringe when their da hits the floor to throw some shapes. The trick is to outdo the other parents in terms of technique. Use David Brent from the office as your inspiration. This will take a lot of practice at home. The secret is extensive floor coverage, uncoordinated arm and feet flailing, silly facial gestures with a splattering of robotics thrown in. Best used at weddings, kid’s birthday parties and teenage discos if they’ll let you in.

Just be cool
Engage your kid’s friends in conversation about music, technology or even skateboarding. Use terms like ‘killer ollie’, ‘rock n roll’, ‘dude’ or ‘cool’ – words that were ‘cool’ when we were young but are, like, so whack now. Talk about how things used to be in the olden days – and don’t just stick to the price of stuff. Ramble on and on about people they’ve never heard of and streets that aren’t there anymore and the fact that you had to walk to school in your bare feet in sub-zero temperatures.

Facebook friends
My kids aren’t quite there yet but if yours are the age for Facebook, be sure to get in there and become friends with their friends. Post and tag baby pictures of them, like every status update they publish and comment of their friend’s pages using all the wrong terminology. Like ‘I LMAO your dress in this picture Amy, OMAG!’
There. You have the knowledge. Now get out there and get some payback.