The thing about having kids is – they keep you humble. If, for example, you should come home one evening and say “hey – guess what? I just found out I’ve won the Communicator of the Year award for our province!” they will have a delightful way of turning to you with a look that says “yeah, so what?” And then, while you stand there waiting for the overflowing accolades and the hugs of approval, they will proceed to say, “ummm… Mom, it’s really not that impressive. I mean really – how many communicators do we know? One! So if nobody really knows any communicators and they pick you to be the best one, well that’s not really that much of an honour, is it?”
Getting a little defensive at their bucket of cold water on your previously swollen and rapidly shrinking head, you’ll say something like “yeah, but still – the best one in the WHOLE PROVINCE!” And they’ll just keep pouring with, “oh sure, it’s cool and all, but if you were the best SOCCER PLAYER in the province, then THAT would be something to brag about! You’re not exactly the David Beckham of the communications world now, are you?”
Harrumph. Perhaps I should have picked a career my kids could marvel at. But then again, I’m pretty sure David Beckham’s kids roll their eyes at him now and then too.