Earlier this week the overly verbose and forever chic actress SJP was a guest. (Side note: SJP is Sarah Jessica Parker for the lone standout who never watched Sex and The City or might’ve been only a passing fan after hearing about Gilles Marini’s shower cameo after his appearance on DWTS. I won’t mention any names, but you know who you are.)
So in between promoting her new shoe line, SJP told Wendy that she hoped her son would grow up and be “decent.” Wendy agreed. Somehow merely being “decent” seems like straddling the mediocre bar. It’s the same as answering OK in response to, “How you doin’?” Would you be satisfied if your child was simply decent? Not me.
Raising a child who’s decent just doesn’t seem enough to aspire to. Aren’t children already born decent? That’s partly the reason why I’ve always rejected the concept of original sin as if children were defective upon arrival. I just don’t feel right hoping that my children are—above all else—decent. That seems to shortchange their potential and the whole eighteen years it's taking to raise them.