I think I'd be a good father.

Don't get the wrong idea, though. I haven't crossed that threshold of hormonally-induced stupidity that compels me to gleefully surrender my television privileges and already weak social life to some parasitic larva that can't even control its own body functions. My brain is not so deteriorated that I would be foolish enough to want a smaller, more energetic, more mischievous version of my self breaking things. I'm not so senile that I would volunteer to have all of my stuff handled by some sticky-fingered brain-damaged fruit of my loins.

Still, I think I'd be a good father. Why? Because I have a fairly good memory of what motivated me when I was young. Such things included candy, cartoons, and setting things on fire. Most of those things did not lead to a terribly productive life for me. I like to think that if my parents were more skilled, I could have been another Newton, an Einstein, or a Vlad the Impaler. Instead, though, I'm just another dude huddled in front of his computer with a monitor-induced tan.

What would I do differently? I already know that any kid o' mine would grow up healthy and lean, with an stoic personality free from the base desires of the flesh. I'll teach him (or her, but it's easier to imagine a him) to avoid the evils of the world and embrace the good things. Here's how.

Candy: Ah, sweets. The rotters of teeth and the expanders of waistlines. Completely devoid of any nutritional value, I wonder how my life would have been different were I not exposed to that sweet white powder we know as sugar (they told me it was coke, those bastards!). It would be simple to break my child of a candy addiction before it started. When he's a year old, I'd offer him a candy bar. One he put it in his mouth and began to enjoy it, ZAP! I get him with a cattle prod. A few jabs with that thing and he'll run screaming whenever a Snickers commercial comes on TV. I can see him running home crying from a friend's house when he is offered candy. That way, at least, there's more for me.

Fast Food: I have many happy memories of going to McDonald's in my youth. In fact, I still go once a week or so. I'm one of the lucky ones, though. Apparently I'm blessed with the modicum of self-control that so many bloated bovines around me seem to lack. How do I know my kid would have the common sense to realize that if he eats fast food for every meal, he'll probably get fat? Better not take any chances. I'll tell him how the burger patties are really ground feces and that the fries are boiled in urine. He'll ask why people eat there, and I'll tell them because they're evil aliens who like to eat children, so stay way! I'd also teach him that if he doesn't eat his vegetables, he'll die of cancer in a week.

Exercise: Exercise is an important part of a kid's long-term health. That's why I'd train a dog to chase my kid around the yard and gnaw on him a little when he caught him. Nothing too terrible, but enough to make him try really hard not to get caught. I might also dress up like a monster and chase him around the house in the middle of the night.

General behavior: I'm reminded of a Far Side where a father uses a contraption to bang on the inside of the cellar door when his child acts up. "Uh oh, Tommy," he says, "the monster in the basement heard you crying. Maybe if we're all really quiet, he'll go away. Genius. I also recall a father using a giant balloon with a monstrous face on it to float up to his son's window and frighten him if he doesn't go to sleep. Brilliant! Finally, there's the one where a woman calls her little dog into the house, egging it on to run faster&ldots;after she boarded the pet door shut. Hilarious! Where was I? Oh yeah. When the kid acts up, I'll just zap him with the cattle prod.

Sex & Stuff: I'd tell my kid early about sex. I'd tell him about all of the horrible diseases you can get, how you can get infected with a giant larva that can tear itself out of a person after 9 months (if he is a boy, I'd leave out that it can only happen to chicks), and how it's an unholy act despised by an angry and vengeful God who loves to throw little children into Hell. I'd also point out how the opposite gender is evil and conniving. I'll tell him that daddy is punishing mommy for eating candy in case he ever walks in on us.

Television: How I love television. How I hate family programming. Also, it's certainly no good for a kid to allow the television to absorb his life, one half-hour at a time. How do I continue to indulge my addiction while keeping him free of it? I COULD hide in the basement and enjoy my favorite shows, I guess&ldots;or I could just lock him down there. I think I like the second idea better. I could also use the same strategy I used for candy.

Drugs: If he won't eat candy, I don't think he'll try drugs.

So, there we have it. The perfectly molded young adult. He's physically fit, doesn't waste his time watching TV, and is 100% STD free.

Maybe for his 21st birthday I'll get him a straightjacket.