As parents, we inherently want our children to succeed. We all want what’s best for our children, and when we see them grow and prosper it makes us all misty-eyed. I suppose it’s because their success is, in part, due to our efforts. How could a child learn to walk, or feed itself, or talk except for through some combination of our encouragement and our genes?
There are some moments when parents realize that their children will surpass them: that they’re destined for greatness. I imagine Albert Einstein’s parents had such a moment when he first started writing mathematical formulas. You can only imagine the surprise of Julia Child’s parents when she cooked her first dish. And I can only guess how happy it made Dick Cheney’s parents when they caught him waterboarding his sister. It’s these moments that make a parent shout out loud “That’s my kid!”
I had an experience like that a few months ago. My son had been with a new babysitter as my wife and I went out to have dinner. When we came back, she recounted what had happened.
Ladies and Gentlemen, my son nearly convinced her to make him a chocolate souffle.
That’s my boy!