Skills at which I did not excel during my youth, which I naively assumed would not be called upon again during my adult years:
Glueing crap to paper plates.
Items of my personal attire which I had never considered might serve as a basis for judgment about my ability as a parent:
Essential elements, in my daughter’s opinion, without which the entire 60 minute, carefully planned, wonderfully enriching, and not inexpensive directed art experience would be an utter waste:
Goldfish snacks, rubber hand stamp.
Clarifications I felt I needed to make, by casually introducing them into the flow of the conversation, but could not find a natural point at which to do so:
“I am a fully-employed college professor, not a homeless man who has wandered in here with Gretchen’s daughter.”
Correlations I had previously assumed to be true, which I now have direct observational evidence in support of:
obnoxious parent / entitled child.
Things which we insist our daughter do, even in circumstances that are unfair to her, wherein she clearly had it first, and it was grabbed out of her hand, which other parents seem to neither notice nor value:
Sharing the noodle cups.
Tips shared between parents in attendance that are likely unique to the Burbank location:
Best place to get toddler headshots.