In the early years of life we think our parents are invincible.
They have super-human strength, are all geniuses and we even think that their jokes are funny.
But as we inch towards adolescense, our opinions change.
We roll our eyes at their jokes. We don't find it amusing when they offer to remove a splinter with their pocket knife or say we're having frog legs for dinner.
We realize they're not geniuses. We see limits to their strength. We no longer think they're cool.
We definitely don't think that their clothes are cool. Or their hair-do. Or the oversized or aviator sunglasses they wear that are (at that time) out of style. They were way ahead of their time on those. Or way late.
I remember when I stopped thinking my dad was cool.
It was at the end of my slug-bug phase. My sister and I were manic slug-bug fanatics. We even dabbled in a little beep-jeep. We loved to play it so much that we encouraged my parents to do so also.
They followed suit and pretty soon we were a family of slug-bug players. Shouting it out in the car, slugging each other on the shoulder. We did it all.
But soon the honeymoon phase with slug-bug was over. We weren't as enthusiastic about it anymore. It had lost its appeal. It wasn't as shiny and new as a few months before. It was slightly lame.
One day while my sister and I waited in the car at the bank for my dad, we came to a decision.
Slug-bug was lame. Beep-jeep was even lamer. Therefore, anyone who participated in said games was lame. The lamest of them all.
We were much too cool to be pointing out stupid cars and yelling about it. Better to maintain our composure. Keep it chill.
By the time my dad got back in the car we had moved on to an unrelated topic.
We pulled out onto the road and within minutes we saw a Volkswagen. My dad was the first to spot it. "Slug-bug," he said.
We rolled our eyes and snickered to ourselves. Didn't he know that game was so yesterday?
And that's when I decided that my dad wasn't cool anymore.
Sorry Dad. You knew it had to happen eventually.
I'm lucky for now though. My kids still think I'm cool. My jokes are still hilarious. I'm still awesome. It helps that I don't wear "mom jeans". But my years are numbered.
So tell your lame jokes while you still can. Before you know it your kids will be calling you old and rolling their eyes at your jokes.
It can happen to anyone. It will happen to you.