Everyone and their twin brother is expecting these days, and while I’m pretty much against creating more consumers right now for a variety of reasons, I’m very skeptical about one particular father in particular. This is a guy who used to visit my family (who thankfully does not these days) and provide us with wholly unwanted child-raising advice.

“Should she be doing that?” he’d ask when my then-two-year-old was ascending some piece of furniture (which happened to be something we did in her physical therapy sessions, though he wouldn’t know that). “I just can’t stand this mess,” he’d say among the clutter in our living room, picking up blocks. “It’s dangerous.” Yeah, my irritation over your childless-based advice is dangerous, buddy.

I wish I would have said something other than the meek mumblings that I produced at the time. In my defense, I was working 15-hour days frequently, seeing a heart doctor due to that, and constantly exhausted—things that this person knew, as well. So perhaps if he’d been really worried about my child, he would have inquired about her mother’s lack of sleep.

What I really wanted to tell him was the same thing I always want to tell relatives (especially childless ones) who, though likely well-meaning, offer advice that completely contradicts my beliefs and parenting style or express concerns about something random they happen to catch on a single day in our lives.

“Oh, I am so happy to have you here today to fix our lives for us! Your presence is such a great moment of serendipity that we’ve been waiting for. I don’t know what we would have done the other 364 days of the year without your sagacious wisdom!”

Seriously, if they are so concerned about a child climbing on the couch, scattered toys, the lack of a weird machine that picks up baby noises, or the presence of a co-sleeper bed (attached to our bed, not in it), wouldn’t they better serve themselves and their apparent worry by offering help, support, advice, visits, etc. throughout the entire year rather than on a single occasion? Do they really think parents are that clueless when it comes to their own children’s needs?

The simple answer is to smile, nod, and thank the person for their advice. This will save you grief in the long run, I think, and it will be gracious rather than petty (which, I admit, my rant may very well be; those with children, however, likely know how I feel). Now that this person is expecting a baby, I can only hope that he will finally understand how it feels to be judged, advised, and even ridiculed by everyone on earth just because he’s done the same thing that most of the world has done forever—had a kid.