Recently, my son started two different conversations with, "Mom, after you wake up tomorrow and drink your coffee, can you …"

I found this funny and a little strange. I never make a big deal out of my morning coffee drinking. I simply wake up, put on my ugly, outdated glasses that are never worn in public, and pour a cup of coffee at some point while making breakfast for the boys.

This, like everything else I do, is documented in the minds of my 5-year-olds. And this, my friends, is one of the most frightening aspects of parenting.

I am their license-less teacher and their three-dimensional film strip about life. I am being watched and recorded by their ravenous intellects. I am their reality TV.

Even at 7 a.m.