Hello Children. It's me. Your illegitemate dad.

Ok, so in the interest of posterity I've decided to go ahead and think about and then document a few cardinal rules for the raising of my children. This is, of course, in case of the rare possibility that I'll take "responsibility" of my children and their subsequent "expenditures" like food and a crib and teeth doctors.

1. Children, I will never make you join an intramural sport, club activity, or youth group (gang) if you do not want to. This is mainly because I don't want to have to kid myself that you'll be good at anything. I'm trying to love you, you know? And how can I love you if I get my hopes up that you'll be good at soccer and it turns out you can't even run straight?

2. Children, at the risk of goin' "totally granola", I will not allow cable television into the house. This is a two-fold up. One, you won't be fat and lazy and obnoxious. You won't make me suffer through the Suite Life with Zach and Cody. You won't bother me with pleas for toys that nobody thinks are cool (nobody=me). The second sweet part of this is that cable television is so on it's way out. We'll get our television, if it's rated highly enough by The Onion AV Club and Newteevee.com, through youtube and surfthechannel. We'll be riding the wave of the future, as Howard Hughes would say. This will add an edge of elitism to you at school.

3. Children, I will never, ever make you sit through a dinner at Olive Garden, Red Lobster, or a steak house that isn't Jack Ruby's. This is motivated purely by bad childhood memories. We would eat and then I would be full and tired and the adults would be talking about boring crap. All I wanted to do was lay down in the booth and that was strictly not allowed. Plus the bathrooms smelled awful and I had to look at everybody's sweat shirts and Nike's. Not a fan. I'm saving you from that awfulness.

4. Children, you will not attend a daycare or private school. You'll go through public school like the rest of us. What, you think you're some sort of privileged rich kid? You think you're smarter and more special than your peers? You won't be. You aren't, especially right now because you're (hopefully) unborn. It's called humility. Learn it, jerks.

5. Children, you will not drink soda. This is another moment of "granola-ness", but frankly I don't care. I just watched King Corn and that shit is scurry. If this means I have to go soda-less as well, then... Hell. I'll commit. For you, you hellions. I'm saving you from diabetes and cancer; please repay me by not turning into a meth head or person who wears Bodman cologne.

6. Children, I will never, ever ever give you what you want unless what you want is love, knowledge, taste and style, basic human needs, and a modicum of safety and comfort. You will not get what's fashionable known as "in" because I'll make sure I marry a woman who, like me, knows what's timelessly trendy (big-collared shirts and flannel dresses). I will foster a love of learning in you, which will supersede all material want (idealism alert). You will be an amalgamation of Spartans and Athenians. Judicious, daring, quick-witted, resourceful, courageous, with killer pectorals and diphurnals (not a real muscle).

I don't know how you'll turn out for real. In my mind you guys are going to be awesome, cooler versions of me. You guys will listen to the music I listen to, but like. Times 20x on the coolness factor. You guys will love film and art and movies. We'll have lively discussions about it on our veranda late into the night while you're home from studying abroad (on scholarship dog. Cause you're paying your own way through college). We'll try and play basketball, because I think that's what families do. Although, I kind of hate actually playing, and you probably will too.

These are just some important thoughts. I hope that some fox with a PhD in Comparative Studies reads this and emails me with her number. And at the bottom of the message it'll say like "Sent from the Blackberry!" And I'll be like, "Dude. That's so hip."