When the “cost” of being a parent keeps going up—not in dollars, but in expectations. The idea that you have a chorus of PTA Karens and amateur child therapists looking over your shoulder, ready to call CPS if your kid faces any hardship whatsoever, while your
tiny, Wi-Fi-enabled know-it-all doesn’
t want to see “a
dinosaur”—they want to see a Parasaurolophus, accurate to scale.
Symptoms may include:
-Packing three separate snacks because one is gluten-
free, one is dye-
free, and one is “crunchy but not too crunchy.”
-Talking to your child in calm therapist-speak so you
don’t go to jail while they’re actively feral in the grocery store.
-Scheduling your kid’s life like they’re training for the Olympics at age
six.
-Staying within three feet of them at all times because God forbid they fall off the monkey bars.
“Bro can you imagine our dads confirming snacks, screen limits, and emergency contacts just so we could go to a birthday party? My
dad would’ve just tossed me out of the truck at whatever house looked right, and said ‘
don’t die.’ Parentflation is
real."
