Egad! Qab Vav!
When you become a parent, you realize that the most innocent or unreflective things you do can scar your kids for life and turn them into socially stunted and emotionally crippled mock-adults, suited only to become shambling hobos, circus freaks, lawyers, and bloggers.
It gets easier once you shrug and decide to lean into it. Certainly your conversations with them get more entertaining. I've learned not to be worried that my son has concluded based on my teachings that Jesus has infravision and that the apostles were elephants. (Don't ask.)
But when it comes to screwing up kids, I'm an amateur. d'Armond Speers [sic] is a professional.
d'Armond Speers spoke only Klingon to his child for the first three years of its life.
. . .
"I was interested in the question of whether my son, going through his first language acquisition process, would acquire it like any human language," Speers told the Minnesota Daily. "He was definitely starting to learn it."
This would make an excellent serial killer origin story. Really, I can't think of a way to mess up a kid more. Maybe if you only taught him English phrases like "please give me a swirlie immediately" and "yes, I am a catamite."
So QaQ ta'pu', d'Armond. Your actions will please our co-blogger Ezra, who is always looking for ways to make libertarians blanch and say "well, shit, even we wouldn't allow THAT."
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