At least she had eye protection. Safety first.

You know you're a suburban parent when your kids says, "Hey mommy! Look at me!" and you turn around to find her riding her scooter while wearing a shirt, a monkey backpack, and goggles -- but no pants.

It does have zero calories.

You know you're a suburban parent when you wonder aloud to yourself, "What should I have for lunch?" and the two-year-old answers, "Diet Coke?"

"Mommy, it's the Omega QUADRANT, not the Omega SYSTEM."

You know you're a suburban parent when you get yelled at by your two-year-old for misquoting a minor line in a minor scene from a minor character from her animated movie of choice.

This kid hasn't learned to recognize all her letters yet, but dammit if she can't do the computer announcements from Monsters versus Aliens verbatim.

Clearly, we're raising her right.

I think they were brown sugar cinnamon.

You know you're a suburban parent when you're so out of shape that a strenous stroller aerobics class causes you to barf up your Pop Tarts in the bushes.

Party on, Wayne.

You know you're a suburban parent when the last time you felt totally wasted was when you rode the merry go round in the mall twice in a row without stopping. 


I could have barfed right on those gilded cherubs, I tell you.

I'm sure I could use dental floss to extend the strings if I needed to.

You know you're a suburban parent when you ask the pregnant lady next to you at the kids' waterpark "where she got that darling maternity swimsuit." If I'm ever nine months pregnant in the summer, I swear I'm wearing string bikini out of spite. 

Maybe I should just move into the mall.

You know you're a suburban parent when you seriously wonder how much it would cost to have the squishy, child-safe floor that they have at the mall playground installed in your house. I mean, it couldn't be more than hardwoods, right?