You can quit getting all excited and telling everyone about his or her reading comprehension level, or their amazing singing voice. Your kid isn’t 20 years away from a Nobel Prize in Literature or the next Frank Sinatra, I promise you. What they are probably 20 years away from is drinking 7 glasses of wine at Thanksgiving dinner so they can work up the courage to tell their overbearing, hovering asshat parents that they are gay. Then dad can yell at mom that “This is why I said I didn’t want him going to that liberal arts college, they turn kids gay!” and mom responds in typical denial “He’s just being theatrical, he’s always been a showman!”. Meanwhile Grandpa takes another long pull on his scotch and scotch and says to no one in particular “I didn’t liberate the fuckin Kuwaitis for this bullshit” as the sister who has always known the truth in her heart hugs him and says “Just move in with me in Manhattan, you’ll fit in there”.
That is really fantastic that little Billy is reading at a 3rd grade level, in the 1st grade. Guess what? Outside of you, and maybe your parents, no one gives a flying fuck. He’s in the 99th percentile for math?!?! So was I, and I went on to fucking fail Calculus. Just because Suzy rakes a bow across a violin and makes music that sounds like an elephant being put down with a razor blade does not make her the next Yo-Yo Ma. And you know what, that’s okay. So put your copy of Outliers down and chill the fuck out. Everyone, me included, would be much more impressed if you told us your kid has fun playing wiffle ball in the back yard with neighborhood kids, or that you found a Penthouse next to a bottle of lotion and box of Kleenex under their bed. You running your fucking mouth to anyone unlucky enough to have to listen isn’t going to get your kid into Juilliard or earn them a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford. But do you know what it is going to do? Its going to make all of your friends and family cringe, and I mean like they just saw a femur bone break through someone’s thigh muscle fucking cringe, every time you open your goddamned mouth and start a story with “Well Michael’s teacher told me last week…..” or “I walked into the den and Michael was reading…..”. Its going to cause your kid to start believing the hype you cram up his or her ass 24/7 and they will believe that they are truly better than their peers. They’ll behave accordingly and pretty soon everyone will hate them. Then you’ll end up with a social misfit who will be double-fucked once everyone else catches up to their reading level or you figure out that to be a true piano virtuoso you need freakishly long fingers.
During the Bataan Death March to greatness you force them on they are going to miss out on a lot of life. Parties, getting laid, farts to the face, beating up dorks like them, movies, hand jobs, sports, recreational drug use, bribing drunks to buy them beer at 7/11, etc. All to feed the illusion that mommy and daddy’s DNA hit the genetic lottery. When Einstein was a young child he invented his own language. Then he invented his own religion. After that he wrote hymns in the language he invented. And then he conducted masses in his own religion in the language he invented. So call me when your little prodigy reenacts the Battle of Gettysburg with armies that he whittled out of his own feces, and until then just please shut the fuck up.