The Best Parent will be more than happy to inform you that their child does not watch TV. They’ll recite statistics about how TV causes Autism, ADD, and even chronic psoriasis. Of course, they’ve heard these “facts” from other Best Parents, who are competing just as hard to prove they are the more proficient pro-creator by displaying an even greater disdain for the world of broadcasting.

To hear Best Parents speak, one might think hapless TV inventor Philo Farnsworth took his orders directly from Satan, and then passed them straight to the Children’s Television Workshop and that little dog in Blues Clues. The message was clear: DESTROY THE YOUNG CHILD’S MIND. Only the Best Parent was smart enough (and better than everyone else enough) to see through this global conspiracy of smart-mouthed puppets and badly-animated action toys. The Best Parent alone ensures that their child only reads great works of literature from the moment the child climbs out of its birthing tub, or off the adoption agency plane from China.

To be a proper Best Parent, however, it is not only imperative to spout the destructive natures of cathode rays. One must also secretly watch copious amounts of TV when no other parents are around, save for those on their Yahoo Parenting Group, who will fill them in on the latest plot twists of Grey’s Anatomy and American Idol.

After all, who do you think is buying these costly DVRs, Blu Ray players, and flat screen TVs? Is it the non-best parent? (Insert canned laughter here from the sitcoms the Best Parent NEVER watches.)

So take that, viewers of the single most prevalent medium in the entire world! The revolution may be televised, but the Best Parent will only read about it tomorrow in the New York Times or on some ridiculous blog.

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Since the Best Parent is very busy with some of the most important tasks imaginable to mankind, they have an overwhelming need to schedule things in their daily life. Each trip to the feng shui yoga consultant or the organic cotton aisle at Whole Foods must be well thought-out and planned in advance. And, of course, the Best Parent has already checked-in with one of their Yahoo parenting groups beforehand to make sure pesticide-free fennel bulbs are still on sale before jumping into the beloved SUV or 2008 Prius.

On the other hand, being the astute prodigy, the Best Parent’s child is also very busy. They have enormous amounts of after-school and weekend activities, such as musical expression lessons, conversational Mandarin classes, and even athletic pursuits, such as soccer (whatever THAT is). Therefore, the Best Parent’s child doesn’t have the opportunity to play spontaneously with their friends. Enter the scheduled play date.

Scheduled play dates serve a multitude of conveniences for the Best Parent. They no longer have to worry that stray children will wander into their yard unannounced, wanting to distract their child from jazz guitar practice or tai chi for toddlers. Besides, the Best Parent has only bought enough Mahi Mahi for three.

Play dates work because, like family therapy and Botox injections, they can be scheduled in advance for the Best Parent’s convenience and enjoyment. Randomness is for poor, non-best people living in the paths of Hurricane Katrina and Third Word dictators. Children, despite their inherent unpredictability, can be blissfully bent and twisted into schedules befitting the Best Parent’s lifestyle. The scheduled play date says, “Children need to play — but so do I. I am a Best Parent — now deal with it, darling offspring.”

So take that, Mommy Random and Daddy Surprise! The Best Parent realizes childbearing is a spinning roulette wheel that, with the right scheduling, will always land on the color “me.”

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(By the way, this is what a pesticide-free fennel bulb looks like.)

The Best Parent always has something of the utmost importance to say. On the off chance they are not at their home computer to post this profound thought of the moment to their various Yahoo parenting groups, they are forced to express this insight in other ways. Unfortunately, the non-white nanny does not speak English. And neither does the $3,000 yorkshire terrier they are carrying in their Gucci dog bag. Perhaps they could call another Best Parent friend on the phone? Not if it entails listening to someone else other than themselves talk.

Enter the cellphone they have bestowed upon their Best Parent child, sometimes as early as preschool. Nothing says “I love you” more than being able to reach their child during preschool math class to let them know the new Paul Frank t-shirts just came in at Fred Segal.

Additionally, since the Best Parent’s child is being shuffled from school to dance class to art class to martial arts class to music lessons to various scheduled play dates by the non-white nanny, they understandably have a difficult time remembering their child’s exact whereabouts. The obvious solution to this quagmire is a cell phone for their child.

The child’s first cell phone is a big responsibility and therefore comes with a few rules. Prime among these rules is: the child is not allowed to use this cell phone. Ever. Unless, of course, it is to call their Best Parents to tell them they are the best parents in the whole wide world. Or, unless the Best Parent is calling to remind their child to thank them for getting them their very own cell phone.

The Best Parent is also teaching their child valuable life lessons. It allows their precious progeny to brazenly show off an inessential luxury to all the non-best children in the area who have to use disease-ridden payphones to contact their non-best parents. Thus, Best Parent children will learn to become better Best Parents themselves some day. Yet another Best Parent circle of life finds its completion.

So take that landline-lugging, non-best parent! The only thing more beautiful than seeing a child’s first tooth is hearing them on their first Bluetooth.

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