What Your Kids' Favorite TV Show Says About Their Personality
If you’ve ever made (or ended) a friendship based entirely on a person’s favorite RHONY season, then you know that what you watch says a lot about who you are. But how about your mini-me? Same. Rules. Apply. Here, a cheat sheet to what your kid’s choice in shows says about them as a person.
Adorable, precocious and a certified “Know-It-All,” your child is never one to pass up an opportunity to put in her two cents. In addition to claiming she understands how bees make honey (they poop it out) and what the Big Bang Theory is (it’s how Daddy makes pancakes!), she’s also been known to fake a British accent and chant “But Mummy, I simply must have it NOW!” at deafening volumes. She awaits a promising career in PR or private equity.
Your child not only likes structure, he insists on it. (“7:05 p.m.: time for books and teeth brushing!”) Potty trained by 1.5, he’s well behaved and polite…as long as you don’t try to move nap time. Or give him the red bowl instead of the blue bowl. Or switch out his favorite cereal for the generic. He will thrive in his future career as a professional organizer or contracts lawyer.
Your kid probably climbed out of his crib at 12 months, and loves to paint (on EVERYTHING in your house), jump, scream, bounce and turn all of your pots and pans into conga drums. He’s definitely been described as “spirited” and fits in better at Burning Man than Montessori School. Nurture him now and he’ll grow up to drop out of Stanford and launch a line of eco-friendly mopeds.
Your three-year-old knows the difference between Vivaldi and Bach and would never eat PB and J when edamame and goat cheese are at the ready. She asked you for a harpsichord for Christmas and will one day found an esoteric poetry journal that costs $45 an issue.
Cool, kind and focused under pressure, your kid is always the one calming you down after she takes a spill on the playground. If someone steals her toy at school, she “uses her words” to talk it out…that is if she doesn’t need time to “process” first. She will one day sign you up for a mother-daughter meditative retreat, and already owns the domain name for her future marriage counseling practice.
He never leaves home without his signature fedora and insists that his school friends call him Laz (even though his real name is Justin). His favorite Spotify station is “Avett Brothers for Kids,” and he’s remarkably adept at playing soccer in his skinny jeans. Start saving now: That Bard tuition isn’t going to pay for itself.
Innocent, wide-eyed and sweet, your little guy is definitely the happiest baby on the block. He loves to snuggle, openly gives compliments and magically slept through the night at six weeks old. (No, no: We’re not remotely jealous.) He will grow up to run development for a small and socially-conscious non-profit, and will call you every Sunday at 9 p.m., until the day you die.
Your child is a sociopath. Sorry.